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RECOLLECTIONS 



OF A 



Rebel Sukcjeon 



( AND OTHER SKETCHES) 



OR 



IN THE DOCTOR'S SAPPY DAYS. 



: E/ DANIE 



ANIEL, M. D. 



ILLUSTRATED. 



1 899: 

VON BOCCKMANN, SCHUTZE k. CO. 

AUSTIN, TCXA3. 



\oO o 



Hid 



COPYRIGHT, 1899, by F. B. DANIEL. 




(^^ CO 



^ 






n^?*^" 



TO THE MEMORY OF 

MY FRIEND, 

THE GENIAL AND GENTLE 

SWEARINGEN, 

KNIGHTLY SOLDIER, WISE PHYSICIAN, 

MODEL MAN, 

THIS UNPRETENTIOUS LITTLE BOOK 

IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED. 



ERRATA. 

On page 123, 3rd and 4th lines, for "primative" read 
"primitive," and for "solider's" read "soldier's". 

On pages 124 and 125, for "malinguerers" read "ma- 
lingerers". 

On page 129, for "Grant" read "Sherman". 

On page 157, for "Chattanooga Telegraph" read 
"Chattanooga Rebel". 

On page 219, near bottom, for "funeral" read "fu- 
nereal". 

On page 232, for "conquored" read "conquered". 
[There may be others; these are all I have found. — D.] 



CONTENTS. 



Introductory. 

The Old Doctor Talks: His Retroscope. 

Sunshine Soldiering. 

Disinterested Solicitude. 

The Doctor Gets Dinner. 

How the Big Dog Went. 

Bill and the Bumble-bee's Nest. 

The Doctor Tjikes Supper With One of the F. F. Vs. 

The Doctor Routs the Federal Army. 

A Violent Eruption of "Lorena." 

Crossing the Cumberland. 

An Extensive Acquaintance. 

A Brush With the Seminary Girls. 

The Doctor Takes Breakfast With the Yankees. 

Perrj ville: The Doctor Scents the Battle From Afar. 

Questionable "Spoils." 

Recollections of Bacon (Likewise, of Pork). 

Somebody's Darling. 

A "Small Game," and a Big Stake. 

The Little Captain's Toast, and What Happened. 

Bushwhackers After the Doctor. 

A Frog Story. 

Poking Fun at the Medical Director. 

Dr. Dick Taylor, of Memphis. 

A Close Call: A B«id Run, and a Worse Stand. 



The Doctor Smuggles Contraband Supplies. 

The Hospital Soldier. 

The Hospital Dietary. 

A "Medical" High-Daddy. 

His Idea of Happiness. 

Why He Was Weary. 

Hospital Experiences. 

Enchanted and Disenchanted. 

The Clever Quartermaster: A Romance of Army Life 
in Chattanooga. 

Love's Stratagem: The Doctor Puts Up a Job on the Major. 

Story of a Stump. 

When the Dogwoods Were in Bloom: A Fish 
Story With Triinmin's. 

Confederate States Shot Factory: ("Limited.") (Very.) 

Dr. Yandell and the Turkey. 

Old Sister Nick: Piety and Pies. 

Wisdom in a Multitude of Counsel. (Nit.) 

A Night at Meridian. 

A Chapter for Doctors Only. 

In the Land of the Blue Dog. 

Jimmie Was All Right. 

Circumstances Alter Cases: Any Port in a Storm. 

Uncle Hardy Mullins: The Ways of Providence. 

The Little Hu-gag, and the Great American ,Phil-li-lieu. 

The Doctor Sees a Lady Home. 

Fine Points in Diagnosis. 

One on Thompson. 

Halcyon Days. 

The Doctor's Lament. 

The Doctor Seeks Comfort in the Bible: What He Found. 



ILLUSTRATIONS, 



AN EXTENSIVE ACQUAINTANCE. 

"How are you, Dick-ey?" 

THE STOHY OF A STUMP. 

"Hurried to join the boys at the front.' 

"Fighting, foremost, fell." 

"Carried bleeding to the rear." 

"Cut 'er off, Doctor." 

'Poor old Confed. Despised old Rebel. 

SISTER nick: piety AND PIES. 

"The Lord will purvide." 
"Ellen, the pie-ist." 

IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 

"Wh-i-c-h?" 

"This is hit." 

"Doin' nothin' but lookin' sorry." 



INTRODUCTORY. 



Offics Texas Medical Journal, 
Austin. Texas, 1899. 

THE OLD DOCTOE— the narrator of these 
reminiscences, is well known to the readers 
of The Texas Medical Journal. He is the 
Journal's "Fat Philosopher/' "Our Genial Friend/' 
"The Jolly Old Doctor/' etc., as he is variously 
called, through whom the editor has for some years 
gotten off "good jokes," especially on himself; and 
who, now and then, has been in the habit of drop- 
ping in in the JournaVs sanctum and regaling ye 
tired editor and employes with his humorous views 
of things. 

It is an interesting and somewhat remarkable 
fact that most Southern men, especially of the 
older generation, however well educated, and who 
write and speak the English language correctly, 
nevertheless, in their familiar social intercourse 
make use of expressions which they know to be 
grammatically incorrect. I attribute it largely, if 
not altogether, to early associations with the black 
slaves of the South, our nurses in childhood. It 
is disappearing with the younger generations. It 
is not "slang" so much as a corruption or mispro- 
nunciation of words, or the lack of a distinct pro- 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

nunciation of each syllable, and the consequent 
running together of words. For illustration, take 
the very general use of such words as "ca^nt/' 
"dont/^ "aint/^ '"wa'nt/^ "twa'nt/^ "narry/' (never 
a) etc., words proper enough if pronounced and 
used as they should be; but custom has sanctioned 
the use of a plural noun with a verb singular, and 
vice versa, and we have such vulgarisms as "they 
das'nt'^ (dares not), and "he dont," etc. 

There are many words and expressions in general 
use in the South which have become idiomatic, hav- 
ing lost their original meaning, and acquired a 
significance altogether different. "Shonuff,'' one 
of the commonest words in daily use in the more 
familiar intercourse, — for, in polite society when 
one is on his "p's'^ and "q's^' he doesn't use such 
words, — is used in a sense of "real" or "true," as 
opposed to false or pretended, and not in the sense 
of "sure enough" or of "certainty." Another 
word of the kind is "sorter." One would think it 
was used in a sense of "sort of" or "kind of," but 
not so. "Sorter" indicates degree. But of all the 
words of this kind in general use, and with a per- 
verted meaning, I believe that "tollible" is the com- 
monest and most generally employed by black and 
white, and by well educated persons. Naturally 
one would suppose that it meant "tolerable," that 
which can be tolerated, or borne. But it has ac- 
quired a meaning altogether different, and is used 
and intended as a qualifying adverb. Few persons 
2 •■ 



INTRODUCTORY. 

seem able to find an}^ other word with which to 
express the state of health of either themselves 
or their family; and when interrogated on that 
head, the invariable reply is "tollible," or "just 
tollible/' I have been told of an old farmer who 
looked up the word in the dictionary, and was much 
disgusted to find it spelled, as he said, "entirely 
wrong," and having a meaning altogether different 
from the accepted one; and he said: 

"Webster is away off on ^tollible/ He spells it 
with an ^er,' and says it means ^that which can be 
endured or tolerated,' when you and I and every 
other fool knows that it dont mean any such thing. 
I say ^my health is tollible/ Dont any fool know 
that good health is not endured or borne or tol- 
erated?'' 

Notwithstanding what has been said about en- 
during or tolerating good health, there is a large 
class of Southern people who invariably speak of 
"enjoyin' very poor health," in a sense of "having" 
poor health. 

Of this class of expression I must mention the 
very general use of "I used to could," or "I used 
to couldn't" do a certain thing. 

There is another peculiarity of the Southern ver- 
nacular: It is the pronunciation, or rather, the 
mispronunciation of certain words. For instance : 
We do not say "corn," but "cawn"; New York is 
"New Yawk"; Saturday is "Saddy," and dog is 
"dawg." 

3 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Some years ago while attending a meeting of 
the American Medical Association in Washington 
city, as a delegate from Texas, I had the honor to 
be the guest of my distinguished friend, the late 
Doctor Baxter, Surgeon-General of the army. He, 
like myself, was very fond of fishing ; and after the 
business was finished which took me to Washing- 
ton, we went down the Potomac to "Four-Mile- 
Eun" fishing for "porgies," the doctor called them. 
I didn't know what a '"porgie" was; they don't 
grow in Texas. Presently the doctor caught a fish 
that was new to me, and I asked : 

"Doctor, is that a ^porgie' or a trout?" 

He laughed immoderately at my pronunciation 
of "trout." 

He said: "Listen at Dan'els calling a ^trowt* 
(heavy accent on the "w") a '^trut.' " 

I said: "Listen at Baxter calling a trout a 
%owt.' " 

That was Vermont against Virginia; and while 
there was a big difference in our pronunciation, I 
observed with some surprise that he said "listen 
at." Until that time I had supposed that "listen 
at" was a Southern vulgarism. 

Many words are pronounced differently north and 
south. There are many exceptions. There is one 
brilliant exception which I trust indulgent readers 
will pardon me for mentioning in this connection : 
It is a proper noun, and is universally mispro- 
nounced. Yea, from Maine to Mexico; from Key 
4 



INTRODUCTORY. 

West to Klondike; from Carolina to far Cathay; 
from Alabama to the Aleutian Islands, — by native 
and foreign, — by Jew, Gentile, Pagan and Poet; 
by Scot and Hun, Frank and Celt, saint and sin- 
ner, the patrician patronym "Daniel" is called 
"Dan'els," with a long accent on the first syllable, 
and an extra "s" is tacked on. 

I have studied "Trenck on Words"; I have dip- 
ped more or less into philology, and I can under- 
stand how the beautiful Virginia name "Fontle- 
roy" same down through the generations from 
^^Enfants de le Roi," the inscription on the banner 
of the Crusaders carried by the ancestors of that 
old family; I can understand that "Toliver" and 
*'Smith" are the same name; "Toliver" being a 
corruption of "Talliafero," which means a "worker 
in iron," — hence, a smith, — hence, "Smith." But 
for the life of me I cannot understand by what uni- 
versal perverseness my name should be and is dis- 
torted into "Dan'els." It is provoking; but, then, 
what are you going to do about it? 

For the purposes of these few brief and unpre- 
tentious sketches the Old Doctor is a portly gentle- 
man of sixty years of age, with a benevolent counte- 
nance which is always upon the point of breaking 
out into wreathes of smiles, while little dabs of 
humor hang from the corners of his mouth, and fun 
twinkles in his honest blue eyes. He resides at the 
classical village of "Hog Wallow," this county, and 
he honors the Journal with a visit every time he 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

comes to Austin. He is a typical Virginia gentle- 
man of the older generation, and like all others 
of his class, when his reserve is thrown off, in 
familiar social intercourse, he uses the idioms that 
characterize the educated men of the Old South. 
Unknown to the doctor, we rigged up a phono- 
graph inside of the desk at which he always sits, 
concealed by a thin curtain, and we have been en- 
abled thus to catch his interestino- talks with all 
the sparkle and snap of spontaneity, — their prin- 
cipal charm. 

As will be seen upon examination, the following 
rerhiniscences are mostly humorous (alleged) ; 
some are sad; some pathetic; and they were all 
actual occurrences; no fiction, but all fact. They 
do not relate to the professional duties of the army 
surgeon, — (as might be supposed from the title of 
the book), — but very little; but are, for the most 
part, recollections of fun, frolic, fishing or flirting, 
as the case may be, "endurin^ of the war," in the 
doctor^s "sappy" days. To these have been added 
a few of the Old Doctor's later-day observations, 
which, while irrelevant to the subject proper, it is 
thought are too good to keep. 

F. E. Daniel, M. D. 



RECOLLECTIONS 

OF A 

F^EBEL SURGEON 



THE OLD DOCTOR TALKS-HIS 
RETROSCOPE. 



Office Texas Medical Journal, 
Austin, Texas, 1899. 

THE OLD DO OTOE sat down in our easy 
chair, as usual, it being, by common consent, 
even of the office boy, understood to be pre- 
empted by and for him whenever he should drop 
in ; and without any preliminaries, began : 

When the war broke out I was not quite twenty- 
two. The battle of Bull Eun (18th of July, 1861) 
was fought on my twenty-second birthday, and I 
was there with a musket, a private soldier. 

I cast my maiden vote against secession, I want 
it remembqred; by posterity, especially, as it is a 
matter of great importance to the truth of history. 
I was opposed to secession, not because I thought 
the South was not justified, under the circum- 
stances, but because I did not believe there was ?», 
possibility of the South's being permitted to "go 
7 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

in peace." The love of the Union was strong, and 
the opposition to slavery, the result of the fifty 
years quarrel over it, had attained almost the 
aspects of a religious crusade. What the South 
claimed as a right, guaranteed by the Constitution, 
the North regarded as a monstrous wrong, an evil 
which had been tolerated as long as an advanced 
civilization and a growing humanity would permit, 
and the abolition party, the strongest in the North, 
practically said : "Constitution be hanged, the evil 
of slavery is a blot on civilization and must go''; 
and it went, — and I am glad it went. Although 
a slave owner myself, and my family had been for 
generations, I was an advocate of gradual emanci- 
pation. Hence, recognizing that, call it by what- 
ever name we will, put the pretext for secession on 
"principle," State Eights, or what not; refine it as 
we will, slavery was the real issue of the war ; and 
it goes without saying that had the South gained 
independence slavery would, in all human proba- 
bility, have still been an "institution" in the coun- 
try. Hence, as I said, I was opposed to the war 
from every standpoint. In the first place the hope 
of coping successfully against such great odds as 
the South had to encounter was a forlorn hope, 
indeed; and if there were any in the South who 
hoped for "peaceable secession" they were badly 
left. But when the State, my State, then, — Missis- 
sippi, seceded, and the alternative was to take up 
arms for or against the South, there were no two 
8 



THE OLD DOCTOR TALKS. 

ways about it, and I joined the first company ready 
to leave my tOAvn. 

So, the war came on ; my vote didn't stop it yon 
see, and everybody had to go in the army. Those 
that did'nt volunteer were made to "volunteer"; 
see ? Funny thing how some fellers can sit in offices 
and send you and me and every other feller out to 
fight, whether we want to go or not; when, in fact, 
we had rather stay at home and play marbles, or 
hunt the festive squirrel, or spark the girls; eh, 
Dan'els ? 

And, Dan'els (he always would call me "Dan- 
iels, confound him), looking back at it now 
through the vista of thirty odd years, — you are, I 
believe, a just man, a good man, — my wife says I 
am, but then she is partial, you know, I don't see 
how you and I and others of our sort could ever 
for a moment have tolerated, condoned, thought 
slavery was right. Well, we were born into the 
world and found it here, and thought not much 
about it at first. But there is no consideration that 
could now induce us to have it restored; we are 
happily rid of it. Why, we smile at the blindness 
and bigotry of good "old Mrs. Watson," who was 
so grieved because she could not Christianize Huck 
Finn; at the same time she was offering a reward 
of $200 for the arrest of her run-away-nigger, Jim, 
and proposed to sell him for $800. Yet she was 
but the type of many thousands of truly pious peo- 
ple in the South, who saw nothing un-Christian 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

in selling a "nigger/^ And that, Dan'els, only 
thirty odd years ago. Doesn't is look paradoxical 
even to ns, the survivors of the terrible struggle ? 

But look here, Dan'els, I don't like to talk about 
unpleasant things; it's against my principles, and 
it's against the principles of my Eetroscope. 

"What is your Eetroscope, Doctor?" 

Dan'els, said he, when you were a boy did you 
ever look through the butt-end of a telescope ? 

"Yes, of course," said I; "why?" 

Didn't it make things look away off yonder? 
That's the way the war looks now; it seems like it 
was a thousand years ago. But I have an instru- 
ment of my own invention which not only brings 
things near, like a telescope does when the little 
end is used; but when I look into the past it has 
not only the faculty of making things look like 
'twas only yesterday, but it brings the past in re- 
view before me in sections, with the added effect 
of bringing out, conspicuously and in bold relief, 
all the pleasant things, all the funny things, all 
the amusing or ridiculous memories, and of sup- 
pressing or effacing the painful, disagreeable ones, 
or rounding off the rough edges, at least. It's a 
fact. When we look back at the war, with all its 
horrors and sufferings, it is remarkable that my 
memory brings to light mainly the funny side, or 
the pleasant side of those days of privations and 
sacrifice and suffering. 

I reckon my Eetroscope is something like Edi- 
10 



THE OLD DOCTOR TALKS. 

son's great invention, whereby he grinds granite 
mountains into fine dust, and separates all the iron 
ore, — the only valuable part, and sells it. My 
"machine" extracts and parades before my mind 
only the laughable or pleasant incidents of that 
painful period ; and there is a lot of it ; and, good 
Lordy, — what a lot of worthless "sand." They say, 
tho', that Edison has found a market even for his 
sand; the iron sells itself. 

(Here the Old Doctor took out his knife and 
chipped a splinter from the edge of the desk, and 
shaping out a tooth pick, leaned back in my easy 
chair, and closing his eyes ruminated a little.) 

Sell the best part of my "sif tings" ? Make mar- 
ketable my recollections of the funny things that 
happened during the war? said he. Jokin', ain't 
you, Dan'els? Well, I'll ask my wife about it. 
There's a lot of "trash" on the literary market 
now^ and they do say there's money in "junk." 
We would have to call it "Placer Mining for 
Jokes," eh, Dan'els ? But I tell you here and now, 
I can't talk to order, nor talk to a machine; so, if 
you want to get down any of my recollections you'll 
have to stenograph it without my knowledge; and 
if you sell it you've got to give me half ; you hear ? 

(It was then we put in the phonograph, as stated 
in the Introductory, and the Doctor does not know 
to this day that he has been "taken down" ; a pretty 
good joke itself.) 

11 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

SUNSHINE SOLDIERING, 



"There's a fascination in the beginning of all things." 

WHAT crude conceptions of war we did 
have^ to be sure ! said the Old Doctor. 
(He had come into the office in a reminis- 
cent mood, it was evident; and taking his cus- 
tomary seat began at once to talk of the past, all 
unconscious of the fact that even his gurgling 
laugh was being faithfully recorded. What a pity 
it cannot be reproduced on paper ! ) 

When we went into camp, out in an adjoining 
old field near our town, each company had its clean 
new tents, and every man a cot and comfortable 
things, and it was a picnic. It was real fun. Noth- 
ing to do but drill a little, and have dress parade, 
— and the balance of the day lie in our tents, or 
under the shade of the big oaks and read. It was 
in the lovely month of May, a time when nature is 
at her best, and all things are lovely. Oh, the rec- 
ollection of those days ! The ladies would come 
out from town to visit the boys and witness dress 
parade; and the cakes, and pies, and the roast tur- 
keys, and the sweets of all kinds! (No wonder 
diarrhoea soon broke out in camp.) The boys, — 
they were all "boys," however mature, were simply 
deluged with flowers. The bouquets we did get, to 
be sure ! And every feller had a sweetheart, of 
course. Such times! Oh, the glorious days of 
12 



SUNSHINE SOLDIEKING. 

youth, when the blood is warm and quick, — and 
"the heart beats high at the glance of" Susan 
Maria's "eye," or words to that effect. We just 
ate and flirted and drilled and played soldier. 

It was too good to last; and bye and bye com- 
panies began to be assembled at various rendezvous, 
and regiments to be formed, and we went to Cor- 
inth. Now, as James Whitcomb Riley says of 
"Jim," that he was just as good soldierin' as he 
was "no 'count farmin'," — Corinth was just as 
disagreeable as Jackson had been pleasant. We 
left a.ll the girls behind, — and the pies, made by 
feller's mothers, — not your army pies of a subse- 
quent date, of which I will tell you some day. We 
left the bouquets and the good victuals, and the 
smiles all behind us; tho' the soldier was smiled 
on all along the road, and everywhere, at first, by 
all the ladies, and there was an added charm to 
the soldier's life. All conventionalities were set 
aside; every soldier was petted, and he could talk 
to the girls without an introduction. All social 
distinctions were brushed away, and every soldier, 
however humble, was a hero. The ladies would 
give him flowers, and praise him; tell him what 
a fine soldier he was, as they pinned them on for 
him. And, Dan'els, between me and you, that is 
one thing that made our boys so brave, and made 
them endure privations with such fortitude; the 
thought of what would be said of him at home. 
It is pride, pride of character that makes a soldier 
13 



t 

RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

brave. But for that,, there are few who would 
"seek the bubble reputation at the cannon's 
mouth/' I tell you ; for it ain't any fun, you bet. 

To give you an idea of my conception of war, — 
notwithstanding I had read a great deal of history, 
of course, — I took along a sole-leather valise with 
me, full of broadcloth suits, patent leather shoes, 
linen shirts, fancy socks and ties. I had an idea 
(what a fool I was), that both armies would march 
out in an open place and meet by a kind of under- 
standing, and after a few selections by the band, 
go to fighting; and at sunset, or sooner, the one 
that whipped would have some more music by the 
band, and then we'd retire. We were to be the 
ones that whipped, of course; — and then for the 
social part of it ; and there is where the good clothes 
were to come in, see? 

And, do you know, every feller in our company, 
— it was made up of college boys or young profes- 
sional men, society men, — the "better class" so- 
called, — took along a trunk full of the same kind of 
clothes? The last I ever saw of my sole-leather 
valise and my good clothes, my long-tailed coat and 
my pretty socks and cravats and things, was at Man- 
assas Junction. Came an order that all baggage was 
to be sent to the rear ; that every feller was to carry 
his outfit on his back, like a snail or turtle (except 
that we had knapsack and the turtle didn't). 
And one blanket, rolled lengthwise and swung 
around the neck was to be his bed. This, with the old 
14 



SUNSHINE SOLDIERING. 

Springfield rifle (with which we were first armed, 
weighing about fifteen pounds), a heavy leather 
cartridge box full of bullets, a tin canteen^ a white 
cotton bag swung from the neck to hold your grub, 
constituted our outfit; and instead of fine clothes 
we were reduced to a coarse gray flannel shirt, blue 
cotton pants and a belt. That was our summer 
rig; pretty tough, wasn't it? 

At first we all had tents, — each tent a fiy, which 
we stretched in front of the tent as a kind of front 
gallery, a tent to each eight boys. We had, each 
mess, a camp kettle of sheet iron, about the size of 
a small nail keg, and we had tin cups and tin plates 
and iron knives and forks and spoons. Our rations 
consisted of fresh beef, corn meal, rice, molasses, 
salt, and, at first, a little sugar. This was seldom 
varied (tho' we could buy milk, butter, eggs, poul- 
try and anything else, — those who had money). 
And a little bacon at intervals was esteemed a great 
luxury. Camp life was still a picnic ; we did noth- 
ing but drill a little, and laze. How distinctly I 
remember the sensations of early camp life just 
after our arrival at Manassas. We were amongst 
the first to arrive. Our white tents spread over a 
lovely green lawn, speckled with white clover-blos- 
soms, a snow white village, surrounded by thickets 
of pine; the dark green contrasting so beautifully 
in the summer sun with the white tents, made a 
picture long to be remembered. 

Under the shade of the pines and cedars the boys 
15 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

picked the wild strawberries and dewberries; and 
the cool, clear little stream, as yet undefiled by ag- 
gregations of men, that within a stone's throw of 
us wended its way to the sea, was a source of keen 
enjoyment to the young fellows. Privileges were 
easily obtained from the officers, then; we were 
all "chums" at home, and discipline was as yet 
unknown. Such bathing in the little stream, and 
such trying to fish, — for there were no fish in it 
larger than a minnow. 

But, oh, Lordy! That didn't last long. When 
we started on the march, — all baggage sent to the 
rear, — tents ditto, or given to the staff officers, — 
cooking utensils followed next, till later, we had to 
carry all on our backs, — fry our meat on the end 
of a ram-rod, and make bread in silk handker- 
chief, or in the company's towel. 

"Tut, tut, Doctor, what are you giving us?" 
Hudson said, while Bennett grinned. 

Fact, said the Old Doctor; you ask any of the 
boys who were soldiers in Old Virginia, and they 
will corroborate my statements. Ask Dan'els. 

On our first march I found my knapsack too 
heavy, and I went through it to lighten it. I took 
out my extra drawers, my extra undershirt, my 
extra socks (we wore a flannel top-shirt all the 
while; didn't need change), I couldn't throw any 
of them away; my towel and soap; couldn't spare 
them ; my smoking tobacco, — couldn't find a blessed 
thing that I could throw away, except two sheets 
16 



DISINTERESTED SOLICITUDE. 

of letter paper and two envelopeSj on which I had 
expected to write to my sweetheart ; fact ! 



^ 



AT MANASSAS. 



DISINTERESTED SOLICITUDE. 

"A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind." 

IN THE company was a fat young fellow about 
twenty-two, named Bright. He was real fat; 
about the size of Governor Hogg, — and like all 
fat men, but me, — he was jolly. He was the life 
of the camp. The least exertion would make him 
blow like a porpoise. He wasn't fit for a soldier; 
had no business being there. He was a college boy, 
and a great Shakspearian quoter. We had also in 
the company an elderly gentleman, about fifty, — 
Mr. Eussell, — and his two grown sons. Mr. Russell 
was a quiet, grave gentleman, and the boys all 
looked up to him and showed him respect. He was 
a strong, healthy man, in the prime of life, — but 
the others, so much younger than he, screened him 
whenever they could from exposure to night duty 
and labor as much as possible. 

I was first sergeant, and the captain had re- 
quested me to practice the men in running, — i. e., 
in the double-quick movement. 
17 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

It was a lovely June morning, — getting pretty 
warm. The band out in the edge of the pine thicket 
was practicing a new piece ; the air was odorous of 
clover blossoms and sweet peas, and young grass 
rudely trodden by the feet of the mtn, as they were 
put through the company drill; and ;:t the com- 
mand "double quick, — march !" away we went, up 
one slope, down another, over the lovely green 
sward, — practicing how we could run (away from 
the yankees, had such a contingency ever suggested 
itself to any of us). Oh, it was a frolic. x\l the 
command "halt !" such a merry, ringing laugh went 
up from the young scamps, — who really enjoyed 
it. 

Mr. Russell had taken a seat on a log, and was 
gently fanning himself with his hat, — cool and 
collected, — when Bright wobbled up to me, swab- 
bing his face with a red handkerchief, whose color 
his face discounted ten per cent., — and in dis- 
jointed ejaculations as he could get his breath, 
said: 

"Sergeant, — I wouldn't — make — the — men dou- 
ble-quick up hill ; it tires Mr. Russell so bad !'' 

At night, while "the pale inconstant moon rode 
majestically thro' the blue cloudless sky" (see G 
P. R. James' novels), we boys lying outside of the 
tent on the grass, gazing skyward, were thinking 
of the loved ones at home, — of our sweethearts, and 
of course many of the chaps were homesick. Billy 
Lewis, who was a nice, clean little law student, — 
18 



THE DOCTOR GP:TS DINNEE. 

as much fit for a soldier as a canary bird is to make 

a chicken pie, — he had it bad. 

"Heigh-ho/' he said, "I wish I was at home/' 
"Heigh-ho/' said Bright, Just as solemnly, "I 

y/ish I had some butter milk." 

And as the "Liztown Humorist" says, "You'd 

oughter heard 'em yell." 

sT 
Jf Jf J^ 



THE DOCTOR GETS DINNER. 



BEFOEE we struck camp and went to march- 
ing, said the Old Doctor; — before they 
took our tents away, and our camp-kettles, 
we fared nicely, l^early every mess in our com- 
pany had a negro servant, belonging to some one 
of the boys; and thus our cooking was done as it 
should have been done, — considering. Our cook 
belonged to Gwyn Yerger, as fine a young fellow as 
you ever saw, and as gallant as Custer, whom, by- 
the-bye, he strikingly resembled; tall, straight; a 
blue-eyed blonde; — of course he was very popular 
with the ladies; tell you a good one on him some 
day. 

Well, — Gus, — that's the negro cook, — got sick, 
and we fellers had to take it turn-about cooking. 
I was a little pale-faced, beardless, dandified med- 
19 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

ical student, and knew about as much about cook- 
ing as a cat ; but it came my turn. I never let on, 
but went and go^t the rations for the mess from the 
commissary, and put it all on to cook for one meal. 
I was a little jubous about the rice. I had seen a 
roast on the table at home as large as our piece 
of beef, and I thought I was doing the right thing 
to cook it all at once, so as to have it cold for lunch- 
eon, as I had seen done at home. But the rice; 
there was about two gallons of it, I suppose; — so 
I said to George ISTewton, one of my mess-mates : 

"George, how much rice ought we to cook for 
dinner ?" 

"Oh, I don't know," said George ; "about a peck, 
I reckon.^' 

Thus assured, I was confident that our water 
bucket half -full would be none too much; — so I 
put her in, — and 

"George," said I; "how much water ought I to 
add to the rice ?" George was trying to go to sleep ; 
he had just come off of guard. 

"Oh, I don't know," said George, "fill the kettle, 
I reckon." He turned over to get a fresh hold on 
his nap. 

So, I filled the four-gallon camp kettle about 
half-full of rice, and poured in water up to the 
brim, and set it on a roaring fire. Presently it 
began to boil, and, oh, horrors ! to slop over. That 
would never do ; we had none to spare, and couldn't 
afford to waste it. 

20 



THE DOCTOR GETS DINNER. 

"George/' I called out again, "this dawgawnd 
rice has swelled; its boiling over; what shall I do?" 

"Oh, don't bother me so, Dick. Scoop her out 
and put it into the vessels we eat out of," said 
G-eorge; and he went back to sleep. 

I filled the coffee pot; I filled all the tin cups, 
and tin plates and pans, and it kept boiling over. 
Every time I would dish out about a gallon, it 
would fill up, and in a minit begin to run over. I 
was in dispair. 

"George, — do for the Lord's sake get up and 
come and help me. (I'll relieve you from guard- 
duty if you will)" said I, in a low tone, for I dasn't 
let any one hear me ; I was the boss sergeant, dont 
forget, and made the details for work, guard, etc. 

So George came, hitching up his gallusses with 
one hand, and rubbing his eyes with the other. He 
had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and he took in 
the situation at a glance. Every tin thing was full 
of half-done, seething rice; and still she swelled 
and swelled and slopped over. My ! it looked like 
there was rice enough for the regiment. 

George looked around for something to help hold 
the surplus, and a twinkle came in his eye, as he 
spied Bright, asleep on his back, and snoring like 
a trooper. His big horse-leather boots stood at the 
head of his cot, and as quick as thought, George 
got them and said: 

"Here, — put it in this; it will get cool before 
21 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Bright wakes up, and it will be a good joke on 
him !" 

I was as full of fun and deviltry as George; so, 
no sooner said than done. We filled both boots to 
the ankle, and set them back; and still the con- 
founded cataract of boiling rice was roaring. 

Just then the captain called : 

"Bright ! Oh, Bright ! come quick, here's a lady 
wants to see you !" 

("The ladies" was Bright's great weakness. Fat 
as he was, he was as vain as Beau Brummel, and 
set up for a Lothario.) 

Bright sat up, rubbing his eyes ; and as quick as 
he could, seized one boot, and socked his foot into 
the scalding rice ; when, ge-whiz ! what a howl went 
up, of mingled pain, wrath and surprise ! He made 
the atmosphere thick with a most florid rhetoric; 
and with his scalded foot still smoking, and redo- 
lent of rice, lit out after me and G-eorge with a six- 
shooter in each hand. Fact. He'd have killed us, 
but we took refuge in the captain's tent, and slid 
out the back way, and each one sheltered himself 
behind a big oak tree. 

Well, Bright sat down on a rock near by, and 
with cocked pistol ready, swore that he'd kill the 
first one of us who put his head out. He kept us 
there till roll call, and would have had us there 
yet, if he had not been called to go on regimental 
guard. 

He got even with us later ; tell you about it some 

time, maybe. 

22 



HOW THE BIG DOG WENT. 



HOW THE BIG DOG WENT, 



IN MY company was a big, strong jolly fellow 
named Bill Hicks. He was a great story teller, 
and was always welcome at any of the camp- 
fires or mess tables. I'm speaking still of the times, 
you remember, at Manassas, before the tug of war 
came; when we actually had candles, as well as 
tents and cots and other comforts. It was a com- 
mon thing for Bill to get a lot of the boys around 
him, and tell them yarns. One night he told us 
of a dog fight he had witnessed, and he depicted 
it with the greatest reality, imitating the big dog 
how he "went,'' and the little dog how he "went"; 
and he had gotten the boys very much interested. 

"The big dog would jump at the little dog, and 
go 'gh-r-r-rh,' " Bill said, imitating a hoarse growl. 
"And the little dog, he'd jump at the big dog, and 
catch him by the leg, and go 'br-e-w-r-r-rer,' " said 
Bill, imitating a shrill bark and growl. 

He had gone over this two or three times, illus- 
trating it with his whole body, and had gotten to 
the point where the laugh comes in. The boys en- 
joyed it immensely. 

Just at that point, in stalked Tump Dixon, a 
burly bully from an adjoining camp; a rough, dis- 
agreeable fellow, drunk or drinking whenever he 
could get whiskey, and half of his time in the guard 

house. 

23 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"What's that you are telling, Bill?" said Tump. 

"Oh, nothing," said Bill; "nothing worth hear- 
ing/' 

"Tell it over ; I want to hear it ; I heard a part of 
it." 

"Oh, go 'way. Tump Dixon, I aint agoin' to 
make a fool of myself just to please you," said Bill, 
looking rather sheepish. 

"You aintf said Tump. 

"^"0, I aint," said Bill, doggedly. 

Tump poked his head out towards Bill, and 
looked him steadily in the eyes; meantime slowly 
reaching behind him, he drew out and cocked a 
big six-shooter, and pointing it at Bill's head said: 

"How-did-that-big-dog-go ?" 

"Gh-r-r-rr-h," said Bill, gruffly, imitating a 
hoarse growl as before. 

"How-did-that-little-dog-go ?" said Tump. 

"Bre-w-er-rrh," said Bill, imitating a shrill bark. 

"How-did-that-big-dog-go?" said Tump. 

"He went '^g-h-r-r-rrh,' " said Bill^ the boys just 
yelling with laughter. 

"How-did- that-little-dogygo ?" said Tump, pistol 
still in Bill's face, dangerously near, in the hands 
of a half drunk rowdy. 

"He went '^b-r-e-w-r-rh,' " said poor Bill, still 
feebly imitating the actions of the dog. 

"How-did-that-big-dog-go?" said Tump. 

"He went ^g-h-rr-rh,'" said Bill, bursting into 
24 



HOW THE BIG DOG WENT. 

angry tears, and saying what he'd do if Tump 
Dixon would put up that pistol. 

Tump had the drop on him, else there would 
have been a fight, for Bill was brave, while Tump 
was a coward, and he knew it wouldn^t be safe. 
Tump left presently, and any time after that, if 
one wanted to get a fight on his hands he had only 
to ask Bill "how the big dog went ?" 

^ ^ •{* •H 

Bill was sleeping one day under a big tree, — he 
had been on guard all night, and he slept the sleep 
of the just. George Newton and a lot of the other 
young scamps tied up his jaws, crossed his hands 
on his breast, — "laid him out"; and getting the 
prayer book, George was delivering the burial ser- 
vice over him with variations, — when Bill was 
called to report at the captain's tent. Whoopee ! 
If he didn't larrup me and George Newton and 
Thad Miller, the smallest of us, and all he could 
catch ! 

Well, that's one of the disagreeable, unpleasant 
things which I told you my Retroscope rounded off 
so nicely or obliterated ; but, my stars ! I aint done 
aching yet when I think of the pounding Bill gave 
me for playing he was dead. Poor fellow, he's dead 
to stay, though, now; long since. Peace to his 
ashes. 

25 

^ M ^ 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

BILL AND THE BUMBLE BEES' NEST. 



ON THE march to Leesburg that lovely early 
autumn day, — oh, how vividly the scenes 
at G-oose Creek and the crossing of Bull 
Eun, at McLean's Ford appear still. There is 
where Stonewall Jackson was dubbed "Stonewall." 
I witnessed the charge and the repulse at McLean's 
Ford, of Bee and Bartow, and the arrival on the 
cars of Johnston's reinforcements from Winchester 
just in time to save the day. But I'm not going 
to bore anybody with that. 

We moved up to Leesburg, our brigade, in 
August or September, 1861. I know blackberries 
were still plentiful. On the road Bill and I 
straggled, — that is, fell out of ranks, and followed 
along slowly at our leisure. You must remember 
that we were all from the same section, all friends 
and acquaintances, and were "hail-fellow" with the 
officers ; there was no such thing as discipline, then. 
Bill and I picked blackberries leisurely along the 
road side, when, looking back, we saw three 
mounted field officers coming, — strangers to us; 
they were brigade officers. Two of them had Gen- 
eral B under arrest. Bill and I thought we 

had better not let them see us, — so we dodged off 
the road into a deep wood, and hid behind a log. 
To our horror, one of them apparently followed us, 
and the other two rode rapidly after him, and I 
26 



BILL AND THE BUMBLE BEES' NEST. 

heard one of them say, "General, what does this 
mean? You are under arrest; come with us." 

'Now, I never did know what that meant. But 
Bill and I thought they were after us, so we ran 
again, and Bill threw himself down behind a great 
big old sycamore log, and, by Jo, right plump into 
a bumble bee's nest ! He ran again, — you bet he 
did ! and such a sight I never saw. Bill running 
like a scared deer, and fighting those bumble-bees 
off with both hands, — and every now and then, as 
one would get in his work, to hear Bill yell was 
just too funny for anything in this world, unless 
it be for a Wild-west show. 

Bye-and-bye when the excitement was over, we 
resumed our march, leisurely. Our regiment had 
halted in an old field about a mile from Leesburg, 
stacked arms, and the men were unloading the 
wagons, throwing out the tents and things. Every 
wagon we would pass the men stopped work, and 
straightening up, would gaze at us like we were 
strangers. 

I said: "Bill" (I noticed that he kept a little 
behind me), "what does this mean?" 

"Dont know," said Bill. 

But it got worse and worse. A crowd began to 
gather towards us, gazing at me, like I was a yan- 
kee. I looked around at Bill for an explanation, — 
and I found it. Bill was marching me into camp 
at the point of a bayonet, confound him ! 
27 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



THE DOCTOR TAKES SUPPER WITH 
ONE OF THE F. F. V'S. 



THERE was but one good coat in our com- 
pany, said the Old Doctor on this occasion, 
and that belonged to Dick Ledbetter. Poor 
fellow, — he's dead, too; the bravest boy and the 
luckiest. He participated actively as a private, 
with a gun, in seventeen of the big pitched battles 
in which Longstreet's famous division was engaged 
in Virginia and elsewhere, and in hundreds of skir- 
mishes, and never received a scratch, nor lost a 
day from duty. He survived the war, and return- 
ing to Jackson, our old home, his and mine, mar- 
ried, and prospered in business. He died there in 
the spring of 1897. 

Speaking of Dick, reminds me to tell you of the 
time when our regiment was making a charge on 
the yankees during the battle of Bull Run (July 
18, 1861), Dick and I were side by side. We had n 
big ditch or gully to cross, and in doing so, Dick 
exclaimed : 

"Gee ! Dick ! look at the dewberries !" and 
throwing down our guns we went to picking and 
eating the delicious berries, and — got left. 

But about Dick's coat, and the tea-party. The 
coat was a pretty, bluish-gray frock coat, with 
pretty brass buttons on it. It was the most accom^ 
28 



SUPPER WITH ONE OF THE F. F. VS. 

modating garment that ever was made, I do reckon. 
It would fit all of us, every man in the company. 

One night our captain was invited to take supper 
at the residence of one of Leesburg's foremost 
citizens, a Mr. Hempstead. He was requested to 
bring with him two of his young friends, and he 
invited Gwyn Yerger and me. Yerger was the 
handsomest young fellow in the company. I shan't 
say anything about myself, on that score, but as 
Mr. H. had three pretty daughters, it is reasonable 
to suppose the captain, who was very vain, thought 
to please the girls in the selection; hence (ahem!) 
Yerger was a blonde, and a great lady's man. He 
had borrowed Ledbetter's pretty coat, and Lieu- 
tenant Session's shoulder straps, — the bars that a 
lieutenant wears on his collar, rather, and rigged 
himself out for conquest, as "Lieutenant" Yerger. 
That evening it was "Lieutenant" this, and "Lieu- 
tenant" that. Already so early in the war a prefer- 
ence was shown by the fair sex for officers. 

With the three handsome daughters we were 
lions. It was a picnic. They had an elegant sup- 
per, such as peace times knew; something we had 
not seen nor tasted for many weary months ; straw- 
berries, broiled chickens, hot rolls, cream, coffee, 
butter, preserves, cakes, umph ! but it was a feast. 
The girls were charming. Old Bontaine, the cap- 
tain, tried to monopolize the conversation with the 
girls, all three of them. But Yerger and I were 
something of drawing room adepts, ourselves. We 
29 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

used at home to "court the amorous looking glass/*' 
and were not inproficient at "capering nimbly in 
my lady's chamber." See Richard III. 

The conversation was general, at first, and 
amongst other things it turned naturally on hospi- 
tality, and Virginia's fame for hospitality; the 
symbols of hospitality with different peoples and 
nations, etc. You bet I lost no time in letting them 
know that I was one of the F. F. V's myself. But 
poor Yerger put his foot into it, if he did have on 
the best coat, and was playing he was an officer. 
He spoke of his State, Mississippi, and the hospi- 
tality of her people, when presently one of the 
young ladies said : 

"Lieutenant Yerger, what is regarded as the 
symbol of hospitality in your old home, — Missis- 
sippi ?" 

"Well," said Yerger, "I hardly know; but 
amongst men, usually about the first thing set out 
when a neighbor calls, is whiskey, I believe; eh, 
Captain?" 

Before the captain could reply, as quick as a 
wink (the lady of the house, the mother, had just 
glanced at the pretty yellow maid who was waiting 
on the table), there was a decanter of whiskey sit- 
ting by Yerger's plate. 

Poor Yerger ! he looked as if he wished the earth 
would open and swallow him up, Ledbetter's coat 
and all. He never used liquor in any way in his 
life, that I know of. 

30 



Of course the ladies were invited to visit our 
camp, — papa, too, especially, to witness dress pa- 
rade. They came sooner than we expected. 

Next evening, just as luck would have it, Gus 
was sick again, — ^that's the cook, — and it was Yer- 
ger's time to get supper. He had built the fire, and 
made every preparation to get supper, and was 
sweating and fussing over the fire, — face begrimed 
with smoke, — he in his shirt sleeves and hair all 
towseled. The regiment was on dress parade at 
that moment, and Yerger was mad, anyhow. Just 
at that juncture, up came a cavalcade of ladies on 
horseback^ foremost amongst whom were the Misses 
Hempstead. They rode up to the fire where Yer- 
ger was, and asked for "Lieutenant" Yerger. Well, 
he was covered with confusion, as well as with 
sweat and soot ; but being ready-witted, everything 
passed off nicely ; but you bet Yerger didn't invite 
them to stay to supper. 

^ ^ ^ '** 

While telling my recollections of my short ser- 
vice in the ranks in Virginia, and of the boys' first 
lessons in cooking, — for you must know that by- 
and-bye they had to cook or go hungry; the negro 
cook business soon played out, I'll tell you another 
one on Bill ; that same Bill Hicks I was telling you 
about. 

One day, or one night, rather, we had gone into 
camp for the night (I mean our regiment), and 
Bill was trying to cook some rations for next day's 
31 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

march. He mixed his corn meal and water all 
right nicely in the company towel, and put in a 
little grease and salt, and turned out a real nice 
"pone," ready to cook. He first thought he'd make 
an ash cake of it, — roast it in the ashes, you know ; 
but luckily, finding a clean flat rock near by, he 
put that on the embers, and when it got hot he 
spread out his pone on it, and sat down to watch 
it. By-and-bye Bill thought it wasn't browning 
fast enough, so he thought to accelerate it by turn- 
ing it over and giving the other side a chance. In 
attempting to do so, the plagued thing crumbled 
and fell to pieces. 

Bill just made the woods ring with remarks 
much louder and more emphatic than elegant, or 
than the occasion called for; so George ISTewton 
thought; George was a terrible wag. He said: 

"Oh, Bill, dont take it so hard. The Savior once 
broke bread, you remember !" 

Bill looked at him for about a minit, a dark look, 
and then in a tone of contempt, said : 

"The hell he did! He didn't drop it in the 
ashes, did he?" 

Alas, poor Bill ! He was a fine young man, an 
Apollo in form, and a model of strong physical 
manhood. Had he lived he would surely have had 
a career of usefulness. But like thousands of others 
of the flower of the youth of the South, he was 
needlessly sacrificed to what the South believed to 
32 



THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. 

be a principle; rights guaranteed the South under 
the Constitution, violated, and no other recourse 
for redress, they thought. Bill lost a leg in battle, 
and after the war, although he began the practice 
of law with flattering prospects, the loss of his leg 
so preyed on his mind, the thought of going 
through life such a cripple, in a fit of despondency 
he blew out his brains. 

J» Jfi J» 

THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL 
ARMY. 



SITTING by the fire at home one day lately, 
said the Old Doctor, our Fat Philosopher 
(by which cognomen we had just saluted 
him on his entering our sanctum), mentally 
figuring to see how I w^as going to make that 
$5, which Bill Jeffries promised to pay me next 
Saturday week, pay my subscription to the Texas 
Medical Journal, buy a pair of red-top boots for 
Johnny, and get my wife that pattern of calico she 
saw in Simon's window for Christmas, and still 
have some left for tobacco, when my wife, — who 
was mending my other shirt, — looked up and said : 
"Doctor, do you reckon Dr. Daniel ever heard of 
33 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

that ten dollar fee you got last 3^ear for a surgical 
operation ?" 

"Why, no/' said I. "What put that in your 
head?" 

"Why, I dont know why else he would call you 
the '^fat-fee-losopher/ " she said. "That's the only 
fat fee you ever made, aint it, honey?" And the 
old fellow just shook with suppressed merriment 
at the recollection. 

"T* ^ •!* 'i* 

Promised to tell you about our captain, did I? 
Oh, yes ; so I did. 

The old man was a scholar. Many people here 
in Texas remember him well. He was a naturalist. 
He was also an Episcopal minister. But I must 
sa}^, he had less common sense than any man I ever 
saw, and was as ugly as the devil ! ' He was a man 
of the most inordinate vanit}-, moreover; — vain of 
his personal appearance! His face looked like a 
gorilla's; high retreating forehead, — narrow, but 
high ; large superciliary ridges, high cheek bones, — 
a real prognathous skull; eyes deep-set and cav- 
ernous ; little twinkling, restless eyes, and a mouth 
like a cat fish. He wore his hair in little tight 
corkscrew curls, and when he spoke there was a 
kind of whistling sound followed. To see him 
rigged out in his full fighting paraphernalia was a 
sight to make Ajax green with envy, and xVchilles 
and Hector go off and grieve. But, — well, he got 
to be the captain of our company in some way, — 
34 



THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. 

after Captain Burt, for whom the company was 
named, was made colonel of the regiment. 

x\t Manassas, — up to the time when our tents 
were taken from us, he used to have prayer meeting 
at his tent every night, and the spoony and home- 
sick boys all attended with a religious regularity 
that was most commendable. He suddenly discon- 
tinued it ; and when asked why, he said that he had 
been fighting the devil all his life, and now that he 
had the yankees to fight in addition, — doubjing 
teams on him as it were, he couldn't do justice to 
both. He was brave. I dont think he knew what 
personal fear was. 

The battle of Manassas was fought on a lovely 
summer day (July 21, ^61), beginning about sun- 
rise. Our regiment was not engaged until late in 
the afternoon. Somebody blundered. I'm glad of 
it; I might have been killed, and, see what the 
world would have lost if I had! As it was, I got 
to see it all, from a safe distance; an experience 
that few can boast of. 

Early in the morning we were marched ahead of, 
and at right angles with the line of battle, for about 
a mile ; and there on top of a high hill, overlooking 
the entire battlefield, we were halted, and there 
remained inactive 'till about five o'clock. It was 
the intention, we learned afterwards, that we 
should charge by the flank, — swing around, you 
know, and shut in, like a knife blade. The idea 
was to get in behind the enemy, and some think 
35 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A EEBEL SURGEON. 

that had this been done late in the afternoon, as 
was intended, when the rout came, we would have 
bagged the whole shooting match. It seems that 
the courier carrying the order was killed, and the 
other regiments which, with ours, were to do this 
swinging-around-act, didn't come up ; so we waited 
in vain nearly all day for them, as stated. In the 
meantime, resting here on that hill, we had a most 
excellent view of the battle, almost from beginning 
to end, participating only slightly, as I will tell 
you, in the final charge, about sundown. 

I wish I could describe the scene to you. We 
looked west from where we were; that is, up the 
run or creek ; Bull Eun. We could see almost every 
movement ; see the charges which have become his- 
torical, as I told you on a former visit, I believe. 
We saw every cannon discharge; saw the curl of 
smoke before we heard the report ; we saw the train 
arrive from Winchester bringing Generals Joseph 
E. Johnston and Kirby Smith with reinforce- 
ments; saw them disembark, — form column and 
forward on the run; saw them halted and thrown 
into line; saw them charge, and turn the tide of 
battle. Oh, it was a most glorious sight, — from a 
distance. The battle raged nearly all day. 

Byme-by the order came to forward, — our regi- 
ment that had been lying there all day just looking 
on, and skinnin' slippery elm trees of the bark and 
chewing it, — the boys were very fond of slippery 
elm bark, — and they skinned every tree on that hill. 
36 



THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. 

We were told to throw away our blankets, or, 
rather, to leave them there, and we could get them 
after we had run the yankees off. 

So, late in the afternoon, the sun was setting, 
and shone in our faces by that time, we went for- 
ward on a brisk trot till, all of a sudden, we were 
on the brink of a precipice, steep, deep, rocky and 
with almost perpendicular sides. And, there we 
were; could get no further. The ravine (it was 
the bed of Cub Eun, a tributary to Bull Eun,— 
when it rained; it was dry now), was fifty yards or 
more wide, and on the opposite bank stood the 
yankees, infantry, regulars, concealing a terrible 
battery. It looked like there were a thousand of 
them in line. It seemed to me that their coat tails 
were all of exactly the same length, from the 
glimpse I had of them; for we stood not there long 
idle. They saw us, and just poured grape and c<m- 
ister into us from that battery, while this lino of 
infantry just mowed us down like grass. There 
was but one thing to do ; that was to run. You bet 
we ran. And as we scattered, the shots just 
whistled after us "through the emerald woods 
where the breezes were sighing." 

About that time,— panic having seized the enemy 
at the other end, where, it seems, our men had 
charged them with the bayonet, and spread to the 
line in front of us, bless your soul, unexpectedly to 
us, and without the least cause that we knew, they 
just limbered up their cannon, about-faced, and 
37 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

got. That is a fact. They had nothing to fear 
from US; our regiment, for, as stated, we couldn't 
get near them. 

But do you know, or rather, would /you believe 
it, — when I was discharged later, of which I have 
told you, haven't I? and went home, the old cap- 
tain gave me a letter, — I have it yet; I prize it as 
a curiosit}^, and am keeping it as an heirloom, — 
in which he testified that I "had always been a good 
soldier; had always done my full duty," and that 
he would "never forget the day, nor my gallantry, 
when I helped him strike the last blow to the 
enemy's reserves, when they fled, — panic-stricken 
from the field"; thus "helping him save the honor 
of the Confederacy." Fact, — a positive fact, — 
verbatim. I have that letter yet. 

When I got home I showed it to my mother. I 
asked her to feel of me. I asked her if there were 
any birthmarks on me by which my identity could 
be positively established ? I said that it was not I ; 
impossible. It must surely be the spirit of Napo- 
leon Bonaparte, Julius Cassar and Wellington all 
rolled into one and personated by me on the occa- 
sion referred to; I didn't know I was such a war- 
rior. 

^N'ow, the fact is, — I ran. But he didn't. He 
just stood there like a fool, popping away at those 
U. S. regulars, fifty yards off or more, with a little 
22-calibre Smith & Wesson pistol, and they just 
pouring grape and canister shot at him and at us 
38 



THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. 

at random,— till the big scare struck them. It's 
a fact; the enemy fled, when no one, from our 
crowd, at least, pursued them. 

The old captain did then rally a few of our scat- 
tered company, and attaching them to the tail end 
of another command, marched us off the field to 
where we had left our blankets, fortunately. A 
great many of our company were killed. 
* * * * 

After the regiment moved up to Leesburg after 
the battle of Manassas (first Manassas), I pro- 
cured a discharge. I had ascertained that fighting 
as a private was not my specialty, and didn't fit in 
at all with either my talent or my taste. Mr. Davis 
had issued a proclamation stating that the war 
would last some years, and officers would be needed; 
that it was like "grinding seed corn" to kill up the 
students (in which sentiment I fully concurred), 
and offered to release from the ranks all who were 
studying medicine. I returned home and immedi- 
ately went to New Orleans and took another course 
of lectures, and got my diploma and got out, just 
before Ben Butler captured the city. In less than six 
months more, towit: July 8th, 1862, I was exam- 
ined by the Army Board of Medical Examiners 
for Bragg's army at Tupelo, Miss., and greatly 
to my surprise, I was given a commission by the 
Secretary of War as surgeon, upon the report and 
request of this board. I was just ten days less than 
twenty-three years of age. I was at once assigned 
39 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

to duty with the examining board as secretary, at 
the request of the president of the board, the late 
Dr. David W. Yandell. 

i^f *ff ^ ^ *ff *ff 

J» Jli ^ Jifi .3fi 

INVADING KENTUCKY. 



A VIOLENT ERUPTION OF ^^LORENA/^ 

THE DOCTOR walked into the office one 
morning, looking very sober, and gently 
whistling "Lorena." Taking his accus- 
tomed seat, my easy chair, he said : 

Dan'els, did you ever notice how any tune, once 
familiar, will bring back recollections of the time 
you heard it ? Memories long dormant ? How cer- 
tain thoughts and recollections are associated in 
some way with certain airs? Yes, and even witJi 
the odor of certain flowers. 
"Oh, yes," said I, "often." 
Well, "Lorena" is associated in my mind with 
more pleasant memories of war times than any 
other song ; for it had its birth, — lived its little life, 
and perished, — was sung to death during those stir- 
ring times. It is essentially a war song; and in 
my mind is associated, peculiarly, with Bragg's 
celebrated Kentucky campaign : 
40 



"The sun's low down the sky, Lorena, — 
The snow is on the grass again; 
Er-rer-something-or-other-Lorena, 
The frost gleams where the flowers have been,'' 

sang the Old Doctor; low to himself, with an ex- 
pression on his face of mingled gravity and humor. 

I was thinking of the time, said he, speaking of 
Lorena, — when the snow was on me about a foot 
deep, before we got out of Kentucky, — those of us 
who did get back ; for there was many a poor fellow 
who went with us, gaily singing "Lorena" all along 
the road who — staid there, — alas ; most of them at 
Perryville and Munfordsville. 

On the march going in, — it was glorious weather 
in the early fall, when the leaves in the forest were 
putting on their earliest fall tints ; when the grapes 
with their purple lusciousness hung temptingly 
near the roadside; when the apples, red-ripe, were 
dropping of their own plethora of sweetness ; on the 
march "Lorena" was sung morning, noon and 
night. The forests rang with it. "Every lily in 
the dell knows the story, — knows it well"; — ought 
to, at least ; lily, leaf and bird, — forest, stream and 
valley, heard it often enough, the Lord knows, and 
loud enough, to remember it forever. 
41 



• 

RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



CROSSING THE CUMBERLAND. 



IT BRINGS to my mind especially, and in vivid 
pictures, continued the Old Doctor, after 
refreshing himself with a cigarette, the scene 
at Mussel Shoals where the army crossed the Cum- 
berland one lovely October morning at sunrise. I 
shall never forget it. The soldiers were in fine 
spirits ; it was a frolic for the youngsters. 

I can see, now, gathered on the near bank, gen- 
erals and staff officers in brilliant uniforms, direct- 
ing the work of putting over the wagons and the 
artillery ; wagons with snow white covers gleaming 
in the clear morning light, each wagon drawn by 
six stout mules; see the ambulances, — now the ar- 
tillery, with mounted drivers in gay colors, — the 
guns and caissons, descending cautiously the grade 
to the water; see those already over, slowly pulling 
up the opposite bank, — the forest-covered hills not 
yet lighted up for the day, giving a glorious dark 
background to the brilliant picture; see the horse- 
men, interspersed here and there amongst the 
wagons and the caissons and the cannons, their 
riders rattling with carbine and spur; see those 
amid-stream, wagons, horses, guns. I hear the 
striking of the hoof against the boulders as a horse 
impatiently paws the water, drinking leisurely and 
little at a time, or as I suspect, making believe he 
was drinking, by burying his nose in the water as 



CROSSING THE CUMBERLAND. 

a pretext to lave his tired legs in the delicious 
limpid coolness of the water. I see again the shal- 
low but broad stream, clear as ice, slowly crawling 
along, fretted here by a rock, checked and diverted 
there by the bank, but still on, on, as in ages past 
it has been going, as it is now; ever changing its 
particles, yet ever the same river ; on, on, to finally 
mingle with the great gulf. The birds in the for- 
est, "winged songsters," chirping their early 
matins, looking on with curious e3^e at the unac- 
customed scene, all unconscious of the deadly na- 
ture of our mission. As an accompaniment to the 
drama, — a lovely scene of action set to music, — 
rang out, clear and strong on the morning air : 

"A hundred months have passed, Lorena, 
Since last I held thy hand in mine.'-' 

Lorena palled after awhile, and I felt somewhat 
by "Lorena" as I suppose Nanki Poo in Mikado 
did about Yum Yum : "Well, take Yum Yum, and 
go to the devil with Yum Yum," said he. And so 
I said about "Lorena." 

How like life was that stream. Every particle 
of the water changing every minute at a given 
point, passing on, its place taken by new ones, — 
and, yet, — it is the same river. 

Now, here am I, — old, gray and grizzled. There 

is not a particle of bone, blood, muscle nor sinew; 

not a cell in my body that was there that bright 

morning thirty-five years ago, when throbbing with 

43 



RECOLLECTIONS OE A REBEL SURGEON. 

the pulse of youth, fired by hope and ambition 
probably, I gazed upon that scene of life, pulsing 
like a locomotive impatient to be going. And yet, 
it is the same, — the identical ego; and like that 
stream, I am still going on, on, checked here, 
fretted there; turned out of my course yonder; 
buffeted about by "circumstances over which I have 
no control," here, there, anywhere ; but still, on, on, 
I go, with the years, to mingle finally with the great 
gulf, — eternity. And then? 

^ ^ 1^ ^f ^ 



AN EXTENSIVE ACQUAINTANCE. 



THE AEMY had halted after all had gotten 
safely over; the infantry, cavalry, artillery, 
the wagon train bringing up the rear. It 
was stretched out along the road about six miles. 
Here and there dashed a staff officer carrying a 
message ; some were eating, some lying down on the 
side of the road, some doing one thing, some an- 
other; the army had halted. The men were rest- 
ing, "resting at ease," but ready to resume the 
march at a word. Everywhere was heard "Lor- 
ena." She was epidemic. You could hear her far 
off ; you could hear her near by, played by the band, 
44 



AN EXTENSIVE ACQUAINTANCE. 

whistled, hummed and sung, always the same, until 
I begun to think that "a hundred months" was 
about all there was of her, till I learned the bal- 
ance, later, about the snow and the flowers and the 
grass. 

The medical director had told me to ride ahead 
up the road 'till I had found the regi- 
ment, and to tell the surgeon of that regiment. 
Doctor — somebody, something. (He might have 
sent a courier, but he didn't.) 

Now, there I was, a stripling of a young fellow, 
just past 23, a full surgeon, with the rank and 
pay of major, and with a high staff position. That 
is to say, — and here you will have to pardon a slighi 
digression, for these recollections are nothing if not 
veracious. Dr. Yandell of Louisville, was Medical 
Director of Hardee's corps. He was President of 
the Army Board of Medical Examiners, and when 
I passed my examination at Tupelo, Miss., in July, 
1862, before we started on this Kentucky march; — 
you remember my telling you? — my first assign- 
ment to duty was at his request, as secretary of the 
board. The board was, therefore, attached to Gen- 
eral Hardee's headquarters, and was a part of his 
military family ; and when in camp my duties were, 
as secretary of the board, clerical. On the march 
and in battle they were various. I was surgeon to 
the cavalry escort, one thing; I had to pull the 
men's teeth, — dress any little (or big) wound, pre- 
scribe for their numerous ailments, diarrhoea prin- 
45 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

cipally; on the march assist the medical director 
and medical inspector, and during and af tor a fight 
I had charge of the ambulance corps and the litter- 
bearers. I'll tell you about Perryville some day, if 
I dont forget it. 

Well, as I said, there I was, a young fellow about 
as fat as a match, delicate physically, holding a 
surgeon's commission, and away up; wearing on 
my collar a gold star on each side, and trimmin's 
to match, — gold lace galore. That is: I was en- 
titled to do so, if I had had a uniform; but the fact 
is, I didn't; I had on a little threadbare citizen's 
frock coat which had been a "Prince Albert," once, 
— and on the lapels of it, you bet, I had the 
gold stars at least, as big as a silver quarter. My 
cap was a dilapidated affair, brim torn half off, and 
it flopped up and down as I paced along, jiggity- 
jig on my little mustang mare. I must have cut a 
comical figure, I reckon; but I had the rank, — had 
the position of dignity, and wore conspicuously on 
my lapels the insignia of it; besides, — I had on 
military gloves; true, they were a great deal too 
big for me, — but what matter ? I tried to looh the 
soldier, at least. 

Kow^ Dan' els, lookin' back at that time, and the 
occurrences as memory recalls them, either through 
my Retroscope, or as they are conjured up by the 
magic of "Lorena," — through the long vista of 
years that has intervened; years bringing experi- 
ence, poverty and gray hairs, but alas, not wisdom, 
46 






-'?*- 



Vv 



.JX 






^^^ii^^'-A^s^ ..A . 



^*. . ''/*n. 



«*h '<'' 







"How are you, DickeyV'—Page 49. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

I fear, I am impressed with the conviction that at 
that time I thought I was some pnn'kins. I'm 
sure of it. The panorama of life opened up before 
my vision, painted in glowing colors. I was going 
to do great things, — I didn't exactly know how or 
what; I was going to distinguish myself in some 
way, — probably get to be a great surgeon, com- 
pared to whom Yelpeau, Gross, Erichsen, wouldn't 
be in it at all. As I rode along on that errand what 
thoughts of glory and of future greatness did not 
come to my mind ! Did you fellers ever read "Bud 
Zuntz's Mail" (by Euth McEnery Stewart) ? Bud 
thought he would return from the war at least a 
colonel. He would ride up to his sweetheart's 
father's front gate on a fine white charger, carrying 
a Confederate flag in one hand and a brevet-gen- 
eral's commission in the other, and demand the 
fair one's hand as a reward for his valor. "Stid of 
that," he says, "they fetched me home in an 
amb'lance, with a sore laig, and I've been a drivin' 
that team of oxen for a livin' ever since; ^Bud 
■Zuntz's fiery untamed chargers,' as old Mrs. Pilkins 
calls them." Now, I didn't fare quite as badly as 
Bud; I came out without the "sore laig," at least. 
I rode along gaily that bright October morning, 
wrapped in delicious visions of future greatness, 
and, as said, evidently thinking I was some 
pun'kins. In the infantry line, which was stretched 
out along the roadside for miles and miles, was my 
old regiment, and my old company with which I 
48 



AN EXTENSIVE ACQUAINTANCE. 

had served as a private soldier in Virginia the year 
before. There was George Newton, Dick Ledbstter, 
Gwyn Yerger, Bill Hicks, Bright, and all my old 
chums, — who had not been killed or sent to hospi- 
tal. Most of these had known me since childhood, 
and they called me by my familiar nick-name. As 
I rode past them with my head up and my thoughts 
away off yonder. Bill, or George or some of them 
sang out : 

"How are you, Dickey?" 

"How are you Dick ?" and the others took it up, 
and it spread along the line like fire when you touch 
off a field of dry broom sage. All along as I passed, 
I was hailed with : "How are you, Dickey ?" "How 
are you, Dickey?" from regiment to regiment, clear 
to the end of the line, where I found my man and 
delivered the message. 

Beginning with my home boys, the army told 
me, or asked me, rather, "How are you, Dickey?" 
for about six miles. It fetched me to the earth 
again, and took the conceit out of me, quite. 
49 



5r 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

A BRUSH WITH THE SEMINARY GIRLS. 



COLD COMFORT, AND SOME OTHER THINGS. 

ABOUT the snow? said the Old Doctor. 
The army went as far as Bardstown and 
went into camp. We staid there about 
three weeks. I did not know what for, till after- 
wards. All I knew was that the young officers had 
a glorious time flirting with the pretty Kentucky 
girls, and being entertained and feasted by the Con- 
federate sympathizers; but the greater part of the 
people were "Union/' and from them we got only 
scowls. 

I remember, the medical director sent me to 
select and "press" suitable buildings for additional 
hospital accommodation; and I went to the big 
female seminary, first pop; a big two-story brick 
building with plenty of room, situated in a lovely 
lawn. It would make an ideal hospital, I thought. 

At the door I was met by the principal, a schol- 
arly looking spare-made gentleman, who was very 
courteous to me. With him on the big front gal- 
lery, — "porch" they call it there, — were about fifty 
girls, of the seminary age and type. I made my 
mission known, and such a hum of protest, — such 
an outburst of indignation — amongst the "TTnion" 
girls. The principal was very nice about it, and 
begged that I would take his school buildings only 
50 



A BRUSH WITH THE SEMINARY GIRLS. 

as a last resort and emergenc}^, — to which request 
the girls added their petition; and I hadn't the 
heart to interfere with such a happy combination. 
Another building was found and made to answer 
the purpose. 

But those bright-eyed little rogues ! They made 
a picture there is no use trying to describe. I could 
tell every "reb" sympathizer in the bunch by the 
cut of her eye, — the silent welcome she gave; and 
tho' she didn't say so, I could clearly see and under- 
stand that she felt that if the poor sick soldiers of 
the Confederacy needed the buildings, they ought 
to have them, that's all. 

When I told them that I would not press the 
academy unless we had a battle and it became abso- 
lutely necessary, you ought to have seen the grate- 
ful expressions of gladness on their faces ; and one 
real pretty little black-eyed beauty, evidently 
"Southern" in sentiment, stepped boldly up and 
pinned a geranium blossom on my coat. Her lips 
were much redder, and looked much sweeter than 
the geranium, and when she looked up in my face 
her lips and eyes had such an inviting look, that, 
I couldn't have helped it if my life had depended 
on it, — just as quick as a wink, and before she had 
time to dodge, or say "dont," I kissed her right 
smack on the mouth and ran. Such a fuss ! Such 
a "my, Jennie!" and "Did you ever!" and "the 
hateful thing!" and "impudent fellow!" and sim- 
ilar expressions, you never did hear. 
51 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A KEBEL SURGEON. 

But, I was a young officer; vain enough to be- 
lieve that there were uglier men in the army than 
I, — and I bet Jennie didn't cry. 

H= :!: ♦ ^ 

My stars, I have straggled so, I forgot all about 
the snow. I am worse than Widow Bedott for 
branching off. 

When the army retreated after the battle of Per- 
rjrville, at camp Dick Robinson, General Hardee 
turned over the command of his corps to General 
Buckner, the late "gold-bug democrat" candidate 
for President. General Buckner had been born and 
raised in that section of Kentucky, and when 
Bragg's army captured Munfordsville going in. 
General Buckner, out of consideration of the fact 
that he had gone to school at that place, was 
granted the honor of receiving the surrender and 
the Federal general's sword. The surrender took 
place at a big spring, where, Buckner said, he had 
toted water to the little school house many a time 
in boyhood days. Dont forget to remind me to tell 
you about the capture of Munfordsville, for my 
Retroscope brings out some two or three humorous 
reminiscences of it as well as some sad ones. 

After the battle of Perryville, General Hardee 
with his staff pushed on ahead, making a hurried 
retreat out of Kentucky ahead of the army. He 
had pressing business, I reckon. I know it was 
considered mighty dangerous for so small a force 
or party, rather, as a general with only his staff 
52 



A BRUSH WITH THE SEMINARY GIRLS. 

and escort of a cavalry company to go through 
those moimtains alone. At night we slept with our 
saddles for pillows, arms handy, and our horses 
picketed right at hand. In fact, men and horses 
slept together, if any sleeping was done ; we didn't 
"retire," in the sense of "going to bed," but slepi 
with both eyes open. 

Coming through Cumberland Gap, — it was the 
most God-forsaken, the most desolate looking coun- 
try I ever saw, — it was getting late in November, 
and getting to be very cold, — the only living thing 
I saw on that day's march through the Gap was an 
old lean ewe sheep, up on the side of the mountain, 
and Dave, Dr. YandelFs colored cook, cook for our 
mess, whom the doctor had brought with him from 
Louisville when he first came out to join the army, 
bought, borrowed, begged or stole that lone old ewe ; 
most likely the latter, for there was no one in sight 
from whom to borrow or buy. Dave was a famous 
cook ; had been cook for a toney restaurant in Lou- 
isville; and when we arrived at Crab Orchard 
Springs we had roast mutton and mushrooms for 
dinner. Dave found plenty of nice mushrooms 
there, out in the old orchard in which we biv- 
ouaced, and he knew what to do with them. It was 
a feast for ye tired soldiers. 

It was a clear cold N'ovember afternoon. We 

dined about sunset, and I went early to bed. Do 

you know, — I hadn't yet gotten "Lorena" out of 

my head, — and that night I spread out my vulcan- 

53 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A KEBEL SURGEON. 

ized rubber sheet on the ground, — laid my quilt 
on it, — and my gray blanket on that, and with 
boots, clothes, overcoat and all on, I laid down on 
the edge of my pallet and rolled myself up in it, 
like dried apples in a dried-apple roll. I went to 
sleep, thinking, if not singing — 

"The sun's low down the sky, Lorena, 
The snow is on the grass again." 

I dont know what put it in my mind, particu- 
larly; it was only incidental to "Lorena"; there 
wasn't a speck of cloud, nor the slightest indication 
of snow, but it fell, all the same, and I tell you now, 
that night was the most comfortable, — it was the 
sweetest night's sleep, the soundest and the warm- 
est sleep I ever had. Talk about "cold comfort.*' 
That was comfortable cold, at least. I had covered 
up, head and ears with the bed clothes, and my hat 
was over such of my hair as was not protected ; and 
when I 'woke, early next morning, without a sus- 
picion of the snow, I discovered that there was 
about six inches of it covering me and my pile like 
a shroud, and covering everything else. Fact. 
54 



$r 



BREAKFAST WITH THE YANKEES. 



THE DOCTOR TAKES BREAKFAST 
WITH THE YANKEES. 



WHILE the surrender was taking place at 
Munfordsville, Ky., of which I told yon, 
begun our Philosopher, — assuming an 
easy attitude in his accustomed seat, and throwing 
his fat legs over the edge of the desk, — from which 
movements we felt assured that he was in a talking 
humor, and we prepared for a good one; — it was 
about sunrise one lovely October morning, an order 
came to me from Dr. Yandell, Medical Director of 
Hardee^s corps, to go into the village and take pos- 
session of, and make an inventory of the medical 
and surgical supplies of the garrison that were to 
be turned over to us along with other property. 

I hastened to dress, when, — horrors ! — my horse 
was gone. On making inquiry the colored driver 
of the headquarters amb'lance told me that my 
white orderly had gone oif on him to forage. Do 
you fellers know what foraging is ? I bet you dont. 
It is to hunt up something good to eat. This feller 
was a famous hand at finding it, and altho' we had 
nothing but Confed. money, — which wouldn't pass 
muster in Kentucky, — he managed, somehow, to 
always come back with chickens, eggs, milk, honey, 
potatoes, fruit; — something good, always. 

This confounded fellow played the shrewdest 
trick on me I reckon, that ever was. He was so 
55 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

addicted to stealing, that, like the nigger we read 
of in the joke books, who used to slip up behind 
himself and pick his own pockets to keep his hand 
in, this feller while we were camped at Bardstown, 
came to me one morning with a distressed look, and 
stated that my best horse was missing, along with 
one belonging to Captain somebody, I've forgotten, 
as that part of it was only to make the story go, as 
I learned too late. As the horse was in his charge 
and keeping, he was responsible. "That's what 
hurt" him so, he said. The fact that I looked to 
him to see that my horse was safe and cared for, 
he said, made him feel the responsibility dread- 
fully, and he vowed that he was determined to get 
that "hoss" back, if he was in the county ; if he had 
to go right into the yankee's camp to get it. He 
denounced the thief who had been so slick as to 
steal two horses, he said, from right under his nose, 
and made terrible threats of what he would do to 
him if he just could get his hands on him. Well, 
of course, I gave permission to him to go and search 
for my horse, and told him to be sure and find him 
before he came back. He went in search of the 
horse and was gone all day. Late in the afternoon 
he came into camp on a pony, and leading my pet 
horse, which looked as if it had been ridden very 
hard, and had not been fed. He told a plausible 
story of heroic daring on his part, and described 
how he had found the horse in the stable of a man 
ten miles off, and how near he was to being killed 
56 



BREAKFAST WITH THE YANKEES. 

when he claimed the horse, and told the man he 
would have it at the "resk of his life." 

Now, you boys will hardly think I was green 
enough to swallow that stuff; but I was. I was so 
rejoiced to get my horse, that, in addition to thank- 
ing the fellow, I gave him a $50 Confed. bill. It 
is unnecessary to say that the whole thing was a 
lie, a put up job to blackmail me and to have a 
day's frolic. He and a chum had ridden our horses 
to a frolic some distance off and stayed all night. 
Afraid to be seen coming in after daylight, riding 
our horses looking so jaded, he hid them out, and 
took all next day to find them. 

But I am away off of my story again. Confound 
this chair. Every time I sit in it it makes me scat- 
ter. Get a new one. 

So, to resume where I left off, when I found 
that this fellow was gone on my horse foraging 
(it was before the occurrence just related, and was 
all right), my only recourse was to use one of the 
amb'lance horses. When I searched for mv saddle 
and bridle, behold, they were gone also ; my orderly 
had taken the rig. Hence my only show for a ride 
was an amb'lance horse with a blind-bridle and 
bare-back. 'Twas that or walk. You can imagine 
what a figure I cut as I rode into that village on 
such a turn out, and dressed as I was, in a little 
thin black cloth frock coat, very thread-bare, — 
heavy horse leather boots, in the legs of which my 
lesrs looked like a straw stuck in a bottle; great yel- 
57 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

low gauntlets much too large for me, and reaching 
to the elbows; my slim little arms would rattle in 
them. I had on a military cap with the brim or 
visor, as it is called, half torn off. N'otwithstand- 
ing the incongruity of the get-up, I had a big gold 
star on each lapel; you bet I did. Of course such 
an odd specimen would have attracted attention 
anywhere. I was a source of curiosity to the gayly 
dressed young officers of the garrison with their 
bright spic and span uniforms on. They eyed me 
with great curiosity, yet treated me with the ut- 
most respect. 

Presently one of the young fellows stepped up to 
me with a very respectful manner, saluting as to a 
superior officer, and said : 

"Will you kindly decide a dispute for us, sir? 
as to your rank in the Confederate army? Your 
insignia, — two stars, — indicate that you are a gen- 
eral; that is the rank in our army, — and surely you 
are too young (and he might have added, but he 
didn't, tho' no doubt he thought it : ^too dilapidated 
and no-count'), to be a general?" 

"Certainly, sir,'' I said. "I am a surgeon; and 
the military rank of surgeon with us, is major; 
and a star on each side is the badge or insignia of 
that rank, — the branch of service or staff to which 
the wearer belongs being determined by his colors ; 
for instance: a surgeon wears black (that was a 
lie; the uniform consisted of Hack pants, it is true, 
and gray coat with black collar and cuffs), — cav- 
58 



BREAKFAST WITH THE YAKKEES. 

airy, yellow; artillery, red; infantry, blue trim- 
mings, etc. One star on each side and black 
trimmed clothes (I wouldn't say ^uniform'), means 
a surgeon-major; stars, with yellow trimmin's, a 
major of cavalry, etc. The badge or decoration 
for a colonel is three stars on each side; a lieuten- 
ant-colonel, two stars; a captain, three bars, etc.; 
while a general wears three stars surrounded by a 
wreath." 

He thanked me, and saluting, backed off to his 
companions to enlighten them on the mysteries of 
the Confederate decoration, and explain, if he 
could, how it happened, as Dick Ledbetter would 
say, that "every feller was uniformed different." 

I was asked to take breakfast with the surgeons, 
— one of whom was a big fat old fellow whose name 
I have forgotten. The other was Dr. A. Flack, a 
slim, middle-aged man. I shall never forget him, 
and I would like to know if he is still living. He 
was surgeon of an Indiana cavalry regiment, — a 
part of the garrison of the little town that had just 
surrendered. 

There was a lot of amputating cases amongst the 
stores turned over to me, and as I did not have any 
mstruments, I remarked that I was going to buy 
one of these cases from our quartermaster when 
they were turned over to him. Dr. Flack said : 

"Doctor, those are contract instruments. They 
are no account for service; here is a Tieman's case 
which I will make you a present of, if you will 
59 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

accept it, as, under the terms of the surrender the 
surgeon's personal effects, instruments and side- 
arms, are not spoils. But as I will have to walk 
back to Louisville, I dont want to carry this case. 
Please accept it with my compliments,"' and he 
scratched his name on the brass plate with his knife 
blade: "A. Flack, 54 Ind.'' (I think it was the 
54:th.) 

Amongst the horses turned over to our quarter- 
master, there were some magnificent ones. You ber 
we young officers were properly mounted after that 
capture. I got a splendid iron-gray, a fast single- 
foot racker. Instead of his being afraid of any- 
thing, say, a hog on the side of the road, for in- 
stance, he would make fight, and would attack 
what would make most horses shy from under a 
saddle. The quartermaster had to appraise the 
value of a horse when an officer wanted to buy, 
and had, of course, to take Confederate money. It 
would have been unbecoming a Confederate officer 
to depreciate the money; we had to make believe 
amongst ourselves, that it was equal to gold; so 
prices put on such property were low. Just thinlv : 
I paid $65 for that horse. The money then was 
worth about 20 cents on the dollar, but the quar- 
termaster dasen't depreciate it. 

I sold that horse in Chattanooga subsequently 
for $4000. 

They had for breakfast, — those surgeons did, — 
fried breakfast bacon (after beef thirty days out 
60 



BREAKFAST WITH THE YANKEES. 

of every month, and three times a day, the most 

delicious thing that could have been set before d 

famished Confed. sawbones), corn meal muffins, 

boiled eggs, battercakes with nice fresh butter, and 

honey, and just oodles of milk, — cream, bless you ! 

After breakfast the old fat doctor handed me a 

cigar. It was the first cigar I had smoked since 

the beginning of the war. He remarked, "that is 

a real Havana cigar." I never let on but that I 

was used to smoking that kind every day. But he 

knew better. 

* * * * 

By-the-bye, you all knew Dr. Bemiss, — of course, 
— late Professor of Practice in the New Orleans 
Medical School ; ever3^body knew him as a yellow 
fever expert. Well, we got him in Kentucky on 
this raid. He and Dr. Joshua Gore and a young 
doctor named Bedford joined us as soon as we en- 
tered the State. But after the ])loody battle of 
Perryville, Dr. Bedford backed out; went back to 
his "old Kentucky home"; couldn't stand it; too 
sanguinary for him. Dr. Bemiss and Dr. Gore 
stuck, however, and followed the fortunes of the 
Confederacy till its banner went down in defeat to 
rise no more. Dr. Bemiss early left the army in 
the field (like I did; wanted a softer place). After 
serving a short time in hospital he was taken into 
the office of the Medical Director of Hospitals, Dr. 
Stout, succeeding me as chief clerk. I found that 
place most too soft. You will say I was hard to 
61 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

please. Eemember, I was young ; I was ambitious, 
also. I stated to Dr. Stout,* the Medical Director 
of Hospitals, that in a position in his office, how- 
ever soft and secure from shot, shell and capture, 
likewise from cold and exposure; however honor- 
able, it afforded no opportunities for getting any 
practical knowledge of surgery; that wars didn't 
occur every day, and that the chances for operative 
experience afforded by the war were too rare to be 
wasted; that I didn't care to be carried through 
"on flowery beds of ease" in so soft a place, while 
others were, figuratively, wading through bloody 
seas ; and that I wanted a place in some good warm 
and safe hospital, where I could study and practice 
surgery. Thus it was that Dr. Bemiss having, I 
presume, all the practical knowledge of surgery 
that he needed in his business, — he was consider- 
ably older than I, — was content to take my seat. 
After he was inaugurated into my place, confound 
it, the position which had been nothing more than 
a head clerkship, and known as such, was dignified 
by being called "Assistant Medical Director of Hos- 
pitals." I can account for that only on the grounds 
that Bemiss was larger than I, as well as older. 

*Dr. S. H. Stout, now of Dallas, Texas. 
62 



sT js 5r 



SCENTS THE BATTLE FROM AFAR. 



PERRYVILLE. 



THE DOCTOR, LIKE THE WAR HORSE, SCENTS 
THE BATTLE FROM AFAR.-A CAV- 
ALRY CHARGE, ETC, 

NOW, said the Old Doctor, taking his seat 
deliberately, and putting a big "chew'' in 
the southwest side of his mouth, dont you 
think for a moment that in telling you about some 
things that happened at the battle of Perryville, 
I'm going to bore you with a description a la war 
correspondent, about pouring volleys into them, and 
so forth, for I aint. I'm just going to give you a 
few remarks, my way; — my recollections of what I 
saw, not what I did. I reckon I saw more battles 
and participated in fewer than most anybody. You 
remember, I saw Manassas nearly all day before 
being ordered up. Well, I saw this one all day, 
and when ordered up, it was not to "charge," but 
to help bring away the wounded. 

The battle began early, — I had nearly said "just 
after breakfast." It is told of one of the Confed- 
erate brigadiers that he divided time by the meals ; 
they were, with him, the eras of each day, — and 
that on one occasion he reported to his superior 
that he would "start in pursuit of the yankees im- 
mediately after breakfast, and if they didn't cross 
the creek by dinner time, he thought he would be 
able to overtake them about supper time." 
63 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

I remember, it was a prett}^, clear, sunshiny day. 
Early in the morning I was ordered to take a posi- 
tion with all the ambulances belonging to that 
army corps, and some litter bearers, in a deep ra- 
vine, and there await orders. Our position was 
between two big hills, and well sheltered from the 
enemy's fire, unless our army should be driven 
back, which it wasn't. Well, I waited all day, the 
battle raging furiously with varying fortunes, till 
near sundown, when there was a charge which 
seemed to be the deciding "throw" in the game, 
and our folks threw sixes and won. I wish 
I had the powders of Stephen Crane to describe that 
charge a la "Red-badge of Courage," but I havn't, 
and for fear of a flat, I'll go slow. I'll tell you how 
it was, from my standpoint, literally. 

First part of the day I staid with the men, for 
the most part down in the hollow, out of danger. 
We could he5.r the battle ; hear the rattle and bang, 
and now and then the bullets would come uncom- 
fortably near us; so would cannon balls. They 
went over our heads, cutting limbs, but not doing 
any damage. By-and-bye, I got sorter used to 
it, and attracted by curiosity, I suppose, more 
than anything else, I went up on top of the hill 
where I could see what was going on. The fight 
was, say, half mile off, and seemed to stay in one 
place all day. I had noticed that our folks had a 
battery right in front of where I was standing. It 
had been booming all day. It was Swett's battery, 
64 



SCENTS THE BATTLE FROM AFAR. 

of Vicksburg, and was commanded on that occa- 
sion by Lieutenant Tom Havern, a brother-in-law 
of Colonel Swett. Tom Havern did valiant service 
that day, — and, it is another one of those instances 
of the irony of fate, like Colonel (Lord) Cardigan, 
who led the charge of the Light Brigade at 
Balaklava and came out unscathed, was killed some 
years later by the kick of a horse; — Havern was 
killed by the falling of a limb of a tree. 

Screened by a big white oak I vvitnessed this 
charge. It became so interesting that I didn't 
mind the bullets a bit. They were hitting around 
me pretty piert, and grapeshot were limning my 
tree same time, but, like Cassabianca, I hadn't per- 
mission yet to "go." 

This charge, I say, ended the battle. It surely 
was the grandest sight I ever witnessed. The bat- 
tery had evidently been a source of much annoy- 
ance to the enemy all day, and they made one 
determined effort to take it. They undertook to 
capture it by a charge in force. 

Away on my left, and the left of the line of bat- 
tle, in front of this battery, and between us and 
the setting sun, I saw vast bodies of horsemen 
being massed. The dark blue uniforms made the 
body look like a gr^at black cloud gathering in the 
west. They formed in platoons; that is, about 
twenty or thirty abreast, and came towards us, at 
first, at a trot. x\fter they had gotten under way, 
it seemed to me, at the sound of a shrill call on the 
65 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

bugle, every man drew his sabre, and holding it 
aloft where the rays of the setting sun were re- 
flected and multiplied a thousand times, they stood 
up in their stirrups and came at a sweeping run. 
Havern, having meantime ceased to fire, double- 
shotting each gun, held it till the charge was nearly 
on him ; till ''we could see the whites of their eyes,'' 
as one of the gunners told me afterwards. On they 
came like a blue tornado, — a black cyclone, bent 
on death and destruction, as it was, in very truth. 
The earth trembled. There was a roar as of a 
whirlwind, or the "rushing of many waters.'' Pic- 
ture the scene if you can. "The sheen on the 
spears" of the Assyrians, that time they "came 
down like a wolf on the fold," you remember, when, 
Byron says, it 

" was like the stars on the sea. 

Where the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee" 

wasn't a circumstance to the myriads of sunflashes 
glinting from that sea of uplifted sabres, as that 
mighty mass came on, hurled by the Titans of 
war upon the handful of devoted gunners in gray. 
Oh, it was as if all the furies of hell had been 
loosed for the occasion. 

Havern held his fire until the cavalry seemed to 
me to be about to run over the battery, when six 
double-shotted guns, charged with canister shot 
were turned loose at once. Such a blow, right in 
the face, of course staggered them. The charge was 



SCENTS THE BATTLE FROM AFAR. 

arrested in mid-career, horses and men hurled back 
on those behind them, hundreds going down under 
the fearful discharge, to be trampled by the horses' 
hoofs out of all semblance of humanity. 

" horse and rider, 

In one red burial blent.'' 

Oh, it was dreadful ! Horrible beyond the power 
of language to describe ! The charge recoiled upon 
itself ; staggered ; then the trumpeter sounded "The 
Eetreat,'' and not a man reached the guns. 

That settled it. The battle was lost and won. 
"Grim visaged war" for the nonce, "smoothed his 
wrinkled front," and whistling to his "dogs," now 
full fed on "havoc," they licked their gory chops 
as they slunk away in the gathering gloom. Pity 
wept. Mercy, frightened away by the din early in 
the day, now returned, and driving away the black 
angel, summoned her minions, the surgeons, to 
oome and repair the damage. 

I went up with the ambulances. Oh, horrors 
upon horrors. Who can depict the horrors of a 
battlefield after such butchery. Shame upon 
shame ! Brothers, of one blood, of one race ! Let's 
drop the curtain. It makes me sick even now, to 
think of what I saw that night and the next and 
the next. I wouldn't, if I could, describe it. My 
Eetroscope goes back on me, and I am glad of 
it; dont know how I ever got onto such a disagree- 
67 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

able subject, unless it was that bad cigar I smoked 
awhile ago. 

With my ambulances and litter bearers I went 
up to the scene of conflict, and all night, and all 
next day I was engaged in hauling off the wounded ; 
first, to temporary hospitals or field hospitals, as 
they are called, where the wounded received the 
first attention; then to Harrodsburg, ten miles dis- 
tant, where there were general hospitals already 
established for the continued treatment of the 
wounded. Of course, all these wounded fell into 
the hands of the enemy, as Greneral Bragg got out 
of Kentucky as fast as possible. The battle was 
conceded to the Confederates as a victory. It was 
a dearly bought one, a few more of which would 
have soon ruined us. True, we took many guns, 
and got a lot of stuff ; but I'll tell you of that later ; 
the subsistence stuff, stuff we needed in our busi- 
ness, and could use. 

At Harrodsburg all night, along with a score or 
so of other surgeons, I operated or dressed wounds. 
That was the second night, mind you, without rest 
and without food. I was nearly starved. 

I was adjusting a splint to the arm of a wounded 
man, when a pretty, plump girl of about twenty 
came to me and said : 

"Doctor, can I help you?" 

I thanked her, and said that if the ladies would 
see that the wounded got something to eat, it would 
be greatlv appreciated. (I was unselfish in the re- 



SCENTS THE BATTLE FROM AFAR. 

quest • I wasn't wounded, tho' I wanted something 
to eat'pretty bad myseli"; I said nothing abont that, 
however.) She said: 

"I helped Dr. Bateman amputate a mans log 
just now; see?" and raising up her skirt, the skirt 
of her dark calico dress, showed me where her un- 
derskirts were bespattered with the characteristic 
spirting of an artery. ^^ 

"If tha;t is what you mean," said I, you can 
help me, and thank you, too." 

AYell, sirs, that girl just pitched in,-she had 
been pitchin- in before I made her acquamtance,- 
and rendered as intelligent assistance as a surgeon 
could have done, after showing her a little. Why, 
she could pick up an artery with the tenaculum as 
quick as a wink, and put a string around it before 
you could say "scat" to a rat. Besides that, she 
administered chloroform for me more than once. 
Oh, she was a brave girl. She was a heroic girl, a 
Southern sympathizer. She said her name was 
Betty Johnson; I wonder what ever became ot her. 
In connection with that night's work, I am re- 
minded of a circumstance that may be thought m- 
terestino- There was a man who was shot m the 
left side, just below the ribs. A buckshot had 
entered his body, and if it came out there was noth- 
ing to show for it. There was a little bit of a note 
just over the spleen, and from it protruded n 
tono-ue-like slip of flesh about as big as one's tore- 
fin<J'er. It was part of the spleen. It was clasped 
"^ 69 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

tightly by the orifice of the wound, and looked 
blueish. I just tied a silk string around it and cui 
it off close up and dropped the stump back in the 
abdomen. I didn't know what else to do ; I washed 
it, of course ; — we didn't know anything about anti- 
septics then, you know. There was nothing else 
to do, in fact. It so turned out that that was just 
the correct thing. I had not read much medical 
literature at that time, and did not know, and for 
many years afterwards did not know that there 
was no record of anybody ever having amputated 
the spleen or a part of the spleen for gunshot 
wound. Some years after the war, after "Otis' 
History of the Surgery of the Eebellion" was pub- 
lished, some one told me that this case was men- 
tioned in that work; that the Federal surgeons on 
taking charge of Harrodsburg and the wounded 
we left there, had noticed this case, the man stating 
to them what I had done; "just cut her off and 
dropped her, string and all, back into the cavity." 
The chronicler regretted being "unable to get the 
name of the operator.'' Well, I was the operator. 
I was, thus unconsciously, the first surgeon to "am- 
putate the spleen or a part of the spleen for gun- 
shot wound." I am late claiming it. It aint any 
great glor}^ and I wouldn't care a cent if it had 
never been heard of. I aint proud a bit. 
10 



QUESTIONABLE SPOILS. 



QUESTIONABLE SPOILS. 



JUST before we reached Glasgow, a small town 
in Kentucky, we came to a cross-roads store. 
I was told that on arrival of the first of our 
folks they found the store deserted and locked up. 
Who opened it I do not know. When our party 
arrived I found gray-backs swarming inside like 
bees in a hive, and they were mostly officers. Some 
of our party, myself amongst them, got sufficient 
cloth to make us a suit, each, and I took possession 
of a two-ounce vial of prussic acid. I was afraid 
some fellow would get hold of it who did not know 
what it was, — did not appreciate the beauty of its 
uses upon proper occasion. After my observations 
on the field of battle and in hospitals I regarded it 
as a boon to be cherished in case of being badly 
wounded, or, what I regarded as worse, being sent 
a prisoner to Johnson's Island. In either case it 
would make my quietus, give me the means of 
euthanasia. It's the stuff, you remember, that 
stood Jonas Chuzzlewit so well in hand in a tight, 
enabled him to cheat the gallows, and "fool" the 
police. It enabled the oily Oily Gammon to do like- 
wise, and in addition he worked the insurance com- 
pany, you remember, in favor of a little girl he 
had wronged; about the only virtuous act he ever 
did; virtuous, even if it were criminal. See "Ten 
71 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Thousand a Year/' the best novel in the English 
language. 

'Now, you fellers needn't ask; of course we would 
have jjaid or offered to pay for the things we took, 
if there had been anybody there to pay; but as we 
had nothing but Confed. scrip, I suppose it is all 
the same ; they wouldn't have received it ; — but, we 
just had to have the cloth and things, you see? 
Eetribution overtook every one of us. I'm glad of 
it. I could never have worn that cloth with my 
customary pride and self-respect. I'm sure it 
would have been a ISTessus' shirt on my back. 

Now, I see you smirking; faint no "sour grapes" 
at all. It was just fate. When we arrived at Glas- 
gow, of course, we under officers did not know how 
long we were going to stay, and had not doubted 
that we would rest long enough at least, to have a 
suit of clothes made. So we, — those of us who had 
"provided" for an outfit (self-respect will not allow 
me to call a spade a spade in this case), had our 
measures taken, and the old tailor promised us our 
suits in a week. Before sundown that same day 
we were out of Glasgow, and going west. At the 
appointed time, — we were at or near Munfordsville 
by that time, — one of the staff officers who was "in- 
it," that is, had a suit in prospective, detailed one 
of the privates of the escort and sent him back to 
Glasgow with a note for our suits. We never saw 
the "hair nor the hide" of the feller afterwards. 
His name was Corey (it's unnecessary to say that 



RECOLLECTIONS OF BACON^ 

our name was "Dennis"). Whether he was shot 
by the bushwhackers, arrested and shot as a spy, 
or whether he got away with our outfits, deserted, 
go ask ye whisperin' winds; / dont know. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF BACON -LIKEWISE 
OF PORK. 



WHEN Bragg's army was retreating from 
Kentucky, — and we came as rapidly as 
circumstances woukl admit, for, you see, 
we were loaded, — said the Genial Philosopher, on 
this visit to our sanctum, when he had "blowed a 
little," he said, after pulling up those steep steps. 
(Hudson grinned and said to Bennett, soto voce, 
that the Doctor "blowed" most of the time. Good 
thing he didn't hear it.) We had to pass through 
Cumberland Gap again. It was a most desolate 
country, and was swarming with bushwhackers at 
the time. We had bitten off more than we could 
chew, to use a more recent aphorism, — our quar- 
termasters and commissary officers made hay to 
some purpose while the sun shone; that is, they 
collected supplies of every kind and stored them 
at various points along our line of retreat in greater 
73 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

quantities than we could handle for want of trans- 
portation. As it was, the wagon train stretched 
over miles and miles of road, and greatly retarded 
the retreat of the army. I have forgotten how 
many thousand wagon loads we had, and how many 
droves of fat beeves we got away with. But at 
several points there w^re stored churches full of 
stuff — guns, bacon, jeans, Kentucky jeans (home- 
spun and highly prized)^ pickled pork, etc., and 
having no transportation for it, it had to be burned 
up. What a pity ! But, that's war, you know ; "I 
cant have it, and you shant.'' Well, at Camp Dick 
Eobinson it was necessary to do the burning act, 
and the infantry men passing along were told that 
they could have all they could get away with. Well, 
sirs, — it was the funniest sight you ever saw (how- 
ever, as you didn't see it, we'll say, the funniest 
sight imaginable), to see about six miles of bayo- 
nets, each one bearing aloft a side of bacon, or a 
ham, or a bolt of jeans ! The hot sun made the 
grease run out of the meat in streams, and it 
trickled down on the feller's faces and necks and 
backs, and then the red dust would settle on it, and 
it was a funny combination; they looked like a 
bedraggled Mardi Gras. Some of the officers had 
a side of bacon strapped behind their saddles. 
74 

f^f ^ fff ^ *^ fif 

Jfi Jfi J» Ifi &i 



SOMEBODY^S DARLING, 



MANY of the soldiers were barefooted, con- 
tinued the Doctor, after a moment^s hesi- 
tation. Cold weather was coming on^ 
too. It was painful to see the boys, some of them, 
hobbling along with sore and bleeding feet over the 
stony mountain roads, but they were always cheer- 
ful, even merry, and ever ready for a joke, or to 
guy some comrade. It is astonishing what kept 
up their spirits, for they suffered every privation 
and hardship. At Cumberland Gap, going in, I 
saw shelled corn issued for the "ration" for. supper 
and breakfast. Eiding along in the headquartei*s 
ambulance, of which I told you, coiled up snugly 
with comforts, etc., I overtook a "Johnny," the 
name of all and singular of the Confederate soldier, 
— a boy of perhaps eighteen years, barefooted, 
limping along with bleeding feet. As he limped 
along with gun on shoulder, — he had dropped out 
of the ranks and was ^^going it alone," — he was 
throwing grains of corn into his mouth, and seem- 
ingly enjoying his breakfast. I said : 

"Hello, Johnny, have you had any breakfast ?" 
"Yes," said he, "had what the others had, — 
cawn." 

I took from my haversack a piece of meat and 
a piece of bread that Dave, the cook, had put up 
for my noon lunch, and gave it to him. He ac- 
75 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

eepted it without thanks or comment, and went to 
eating it in a very matter-of-course way. I said : 

"Where are your shoes, Johnny?" 

"Havn't got any/' was the laconic reph^, between 
mouthfuls. I took out my best boots, for I had 
this extra pair, which were really too light for ser- 
vice, and I only kept them for social affairs, and 
asking him "what size do you wear?" and if he 
thought he could get his hoofs into these? threw 
them to him. He said he could wear anything he 
could get his foot into, and while they "wern't any 
great shakes," he said, "they beat no shoes, pretty 
bad." The last I saw of Johnny he was sitting on 

a rock on the roadside tugging at the boots. 
* * * * 

It was a little after daylight that morning when 
I came upon a company of infantry, just breaking 
camp ; or, rather, about to leave the spot where they 
had bivouaced, and resume the march. Some 
eight or ten men were standing around the remains 
of a camp fire, by which was lying a boy of perhaps 
sixteen or eighteen years of age, apparently in -i 
trance. As I rode up one of the party said : 

"Here comes a surgeon, now." 

They told me that "Henry" (they called him 
"Henry"), had sat up late the night before, cook- 
ing rations for the march; that they all went to 
sleep and left him cooking, — and when they got 
up, they found him "just like he is now," they 
said, and "couldn't wake him." I dismounted, 
76 



and carefully examined the poor boy, and there 
were no signs of life, tho' he was still warm. Arti- 
ficial respiration was tried; hot water dashed over 
the region of the heart also failed to start the pul- 
sation. I held a small pocket mirror over his 
mouth and nose, but there was not a sign of res- 
piration. The boy was dead. 

lie was roughly clad, and looked like a farmer 
boy. In one hand he held an ambrotype (that was 
the prevalent kind of pictures, then; photographs 
had not come into use in the South). It is evident 
that the last thing the boy did before the death 
angel closed his young eyes, was to gaze on that 
picture, — lovingly. We took it tenderly from his 
grasp; it was the picture of a plain, faded, 
wrinkled old woman, of the commoner sort, — the 
poorer country people. It was his mother. Ah, 
to his childish eyes she was not old, nor wrinkled, 
nor ugly, nor faded, nor common. To him she was 
beautiful; she was young; she was the apotheosis 
of all that was lovely and lovable. She was 
"mother." Alas, poor mother. It is doubtful if 
she ever heard when, where or if he died. She 
may be waiting yet for his coming. Poor mother. 
* * * "Plain," "common," "only a private," a 
"conscript" most likely, — his loss will not be felt; 
"only one of the men," — a unit in the great whole, 
he will not be missed. But oh, how dear was he to 
that simple old mother! He was her "boy," her 
son, her darling. 

77 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Weep, poor mother, as weep thousands of hearts 
wrung by a common grief, and each with a grief 
of its own. 

In the distant aiden shall she clasp her long-lost 
boy? Away beyond the skies, — where there are no 
wars, — no conscript officers, — no partings, — no 
death; before that great white Throne where there 
are no distinctions of persons, shall her grief be 
'suaged ? — her tears dried ? 

Mi Jii 

9^ 9^ 95r 

^SMALL GAME'' FOR A BIG STAKE. 



THE LITTLE CAPTAIN^S TOAST, AND WHAT 
HAPPENED. 

THE Old Doctor came in late one afternoon, 
and taking his seat, said that he could 
only stay a few minutes ; and that he wasn't 
in a talking humor. He didn't want anybody to 
ask him any questions. 

I expressed the hope that he wasn't sick. 
Oh, no, he said; only I've been lookin' thro' the 
wrong end of my Eetroscope, — contrary to my 
principles, and before I was aware of it here had 
come trooping before my mental vision a whole lot 
of unpleasant recollections, and it has depressed 



me somewhat, and I havn't gotten entirely over it, 
altho' I have taken a bath and disinfected myself. 

"How on earth do you disinfect yourself, Doc- 
tor?" said I. 

Why, by reading up on James Whitcomb Eiley 
and Mark Twain. They are the best antidotes for 
the "blues" I know of; they are iintiseptic, for 
"blues" is pizen. It will take me a week to get into 
good talking trim, at least, and then I'll tell you 
about the time we captured Munfordsville, Ken- 
tucky, and what happened about three days before 
the arrival of the army; I mean the main army — 
Bragg's army. 

You see, the army was composed of two army 
corps; one commanded by General Leonidas Polk 
(an Episcopal minister, a Bishop, by-the-bye, you 
remember), who was killed later by a cannon shot 
at Kennesaw Mountain in sight of Marietta, Ga., 
where I was stationed at the time; and the other 
by General Hardee; both lieutenant-generals. 

Brigadier-General James E. Chalmers, after- 
wards Congressman from Mississippi, and lately 
deceased, in command of a brigade of Mississippi 
troops that had won the name of "The Fighting 
Brigade" (as if all brigades were not "fighting 
brigades"), and he thought he could just do any- 
thing with them, — had assaulted the place and was 
repulsed with a loss of two hundred of his Missis- 
sippi boys killed, and twice as many wounded. He 
was much censured for it, because, acting as ad- 
79 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

vance guard of the army, he had no instructions 
to make an attack on a fortified place, especially 
when he did not know the strength of the garrison, 
which was the ease in this instance. 

The little village of Munf ordsville nestled down 
between three mountains, separated by two little 
clear streams which unite there and form Green 
river ; part of the town is on each side of the river. 
It was held by Brigadier-General Wilder, of the 
Federal army, with a brigade of splendid cavalry, 
4500 strong; Chalmers had 2800 infantry. 

The place was fortified by pine poles six or eight 
inches in diameter, split in two pieces, and driven 
in the ground, slantin' outwards. They were about 
fifteen feet high. Under the slope, all around, was 
a ditch full of water. These poles were not an 
inch apart; they formed an almost solid wall, with 
loop-holes through which to fire ; and the trees and 
bushes all around had been cut down, and the 
trunks and limbs were so arranged as to obstruct 
a charge by the enemy, and subject him to a fire 
from the loop-holes while tangled up in the abattis. 
Even if Chalmers' men could have charged through 
the clearing, and gotten over this terrible abattis, 
a veritable death trap, when they had reached the 
ditch they could not cross it; nor was it possible 
to scale the walls without ladders. The fort was 
simply impregnable. 

But Chalmers charged it. My brother, who com- 
manded a company in the Tenth Mississippi, in- 
80 



formed me lately, that after Chalmers had gotten 
his men tangled up in the abattis he could neither 
advance nor retreat; — had to "get somebody to 
help him let loose/' — and that it was only by a ruse 
that he was enabled to withdraw his men. At 
nearly night he sent in a flag of truce and asked 
permission to carry of! his wounded. It was, of 
course, granted, and under cover of darkness and 
this truce, he withdrew his men. 

It was currently reported, and generally believed, 
that General Chalmers was in doubt as to whether 
he should attack the place, or wait till the arrival 
of the main army, and that he and his young staff 
officers played a game of "seven-up" to decide it. 
Chalmers won, and that meant "assault," and he 
"assaulted,'' — butted his brains out, figuratively. 

I do not know whether this is true or not, con- 
tinued the Old Doctor, but it probably is. Those 
gay youngsters would play cards, you know, and 
they'd bet on anything. They were very daredevils, 
and did not stop at anything. 

It is a very remarkable coincidence that this 
same General Chalmers attacked Fort Pickens 
earlier in the war, and was badly repulsed, and that 
the same General Wilder was in command of the 
garrison at Fort Pickens. Looks like having had 
his fingers burnt once, would have made him a 
little more cautious how he tackled Wilder. 

Chalmers was only about 36 years of age, and 
was as ambitious as he was handsome and brave. 
81 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEOX. 

In that fatal assault, amongst the other gallant 
Mississippians, needlessly sacrificed, was the brave 
and much beloved colonel of the 10th Mississippi 
infantry, Colonel Bob Smith, of Jackson, Miss. I 
went in under a flag of truce to see him, when 
Bragg had arrived with his army two or three days 
later, but Colonel Smith was past knowing any one. 
I notice in the "Confederate Veteran^' that a gran- 
ite shaft has been erected by the Mississippi people 
to his memory, on the spot where he fell. My 
brother, captain of one of Smith's companies, and 
whom you all know, was desperately wounded while 
leading his men over that murderous abattis. 

About 2 o'clock on the third day after the as- 
sault, the army arrived, and bivouaced all around 
the little town on the mountains. That night, when 
the camp fires were lighted, G-eneral Wilder saw 
that an army had arrived in force, and sent out a 
flag, and offered to surrender, or in reply to a 
demand to surrender, I do not know which. That 
is the surrender of which I told you, I believe, 
before; the one conducted by General S. B. Buck- 
ner, out of compliment to him, he having gone to 
school at Munfordsville when a boy. 

After General Wilder had handed his sword to 

General Buckner, the men all having stacked arms 

and were prisoners, he asked General Buckner what 

force we were in, as he wished to know whether he 

82 



FOR A BIG STAKE. 

had surrendered to anything like an equal number 
without making a fight. General Buckner said : 

"I shall not tell you anything more, than if you 
had not surrendered at daylight, in an hour, we 
would have opened fire on the fort with seventy- 
eight cannon." 

"Good Lord/' said General Wilder, "you would 

have blown us off of the face of the earth.*' 
* * * * 

But I'm getting ahead of my story. 

About 2 p. m. General Hardee, with his staff and 
escort, arrived on the south side of the town, on 
top of one of the mountains, on which there was 
a road, and we rode into a little grove on the road- 
side, and dismounted to -go into camp, or bivouac, 
rather; no tents, you know. 

Now, I had a nice saddle horse, and a white "or- 
derly" (servant) ; besides, the amb'lance that be- 
longed to headquarters, driven by a negro boy, was 
in my charge; and in it were carried the medical 
supplies for headquarters, as well as my valise and 
blankets, etc., on the march. When I got tired 
riding horseback, I'd coil up in the amb'lance and 
take it easy, see ? To tell you the truth, I early de- 
veloped a wonderful faculty for finding comfortable 
places, and I somehow escaped much harship that 
others felt. You bet I got out of the field before 
the severity of winter set in, and the offer of the 
empty honor, later, of being appointed assistant 
medical director on Bragg's staff could not, — did 
83 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

not, tempt me to go back. When, after leaving the 
Medical Board and General Hardee's party later, — 
I was assigned to duty at Chattanooga, Dr. Eich- 
ardson of 'Rew Orleans, now deceased, was then 
medical director. He was transferred to Rich- 
mond at his request, and Dr. Flewellyn, of Geor- 
gia, was made medical director in his stead. Dr. 
Flewellyn did me the honor to ask me to accept the 
position of assistant medical director, made vacant 
by his promotion. Declined with thanks. I had 
then a soft thing, and I preferred it to a hard 
thing with more "honors" ; and life in the field, in 
the mountains of Tennessee in snow time, was a 
hard thing, you bet. But I have scattered again; 
Dan'els, cant you hold me down to a steady gait? 
I'm awful at breaking. 

Amongst other "medical stores" in that amb'- 
lance in my charge, was a five-gallon demijohn of 
real good old Kentucky whiskey — bourbon. That 
I was popular with the staff (on that account) 
goes without saying. Excepting Dr. Yandell and 
the members of the Board of Examiners, the staff 
officers were young men. There was Captain Wil- 
kins, aide-de-camp, the same Judge Wilkins now 
of Sherman, Texas; Captain Eoy, A. A. G. ; Cap- 
tain Dave White, aide; Major Hoskins, chief of 
artillery; Dr. Breysaeher, medical inspector, now 
living at Little Rock, Ark. ; Dr. Lunsford P. Yan- 
dell, Jr., the late popular lecturer in Memphis Med- 
ical College, brother to the medical director, several 
84 



others, and last, but not least (tho' he tvas the 
smallest one in the lot), was Captain Harr}^ Dash, 
aide, the same Harry Dash now of the big grocery 
firm of Dash, Lewis & Co., Xew Orleans. Dash 
was a poet; had written a small volume of poems 
at that time. Well, when we halted and dismounted 
and hitched our horses, the first thing was, — to see 
how the "medical stores" were holding out. The 
examination extended only to the demijohn, how- 
ever. 

I made my orderly get out the demijohn, and 
seated on the grass with the demijohn in the center 
of the circle formed by the young staff officers just 
mentioned, we had each poured out about two fin- 
gers in our tin cups, and Captain Dash had said : 
"Hold up, boys, I want to propose a toast." 
So, with cup in hand, — no thought of the old 
adge, — "many a slip," each sat, expectant, — cup 
uplifted, — listening to the toast. It was long, aye, 
very long, to thirsty, weary pilgrims, — and before 
it was finished, — Dash was saying something about 
an elephant having a trunk, and not being allowed 
to cross the Cumberland with it; I didn't hear it 
out, — here came a shot from the besieged garrison, 
a Parrott-shell, screaming over our heads, and 
burst right in our midst. Before it exploded every 
feller had thrown himself down fiat on the ground, 
and in so doing, had not only spilt his whiskey, but 
we kicked over the demijohn, and lost the last drop 
of the precious medical supply. Fortunately no- 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

body was hurt. But that was the most indignant 
crowd of youngsters you ever saw. 

What did we do? Why, Wilkins and White just 
seized the little captain, after damning his toast, 
and damning his eyes, — and taking him by the legs 
and arms, with his back swung near the ground, 
just lumped him, — bumped his seat against a 
black-jack tree about twenty bumps ; that's all. 

Here the Old Doctor took out a cigar, which he 
said somebody had given him, and lighting it, 
puffed away with much relish. 

"Thanks, Doctor," said I. "That's a pretty good 
story for a man who wasn't going to stop but a 
minit, and wasn't in a talking humor. Sit longer ? 
No? Well, do come. Doctor, some time when you 
are in a talking humor ; it must be a sight to see." 

The Doctor grunted a good-natured grunt, and 
said : 

I cant help talkin'; I've just got to talk, — and 
you fellers are about the only ones I know who will 
listen to me about "war times." They say, — "oh, 
g'wan. Doctor, we live in the present." Well, boys, 
I reckon I am an anachronism, — a back number. 
So long, boys. 



5r 



THE BUSHWHACKEES AFTER THE DOCTOR. 



THE BUSHWHACKERS AFTER THE 
DOCTOR. 



A FTEE operating all night and otherwise at- 
^-\ tending to the wounded at Harrodsburg 
after the battle of Perryville, said the Old 
Doctor, resuming his account of the occurrences in 
Kentucky, about daylight I mounted my horse and 
lit out to overtake General Hardee and his party. 
I had not had an3rthing to eat in nearly forty-eight 
hours, and was nearly starved. I rode rapidly. It 
was a cold, clear morning, late in October, and on 
the beautiful macadamized road my swift single- 
foot racker fairly flew. 

I had gone perhaps six miles before it occurred 
to me that I might be on the wrong road, — going 
the wrong way. Presently I met a man in a cart, 
and I asked: 

"Is this the road to Camp Dick Eobinson?" (I 
knew that was the general's objective point.) 

"My! — No!" said the man. "You are on the 
Versailles road, and going right t'wards the yan- 
kees ; they are coming this way." 

Here was a predicament. All those six miles to 
retrace, and the danger of being captured, — per- 
haps shot for a spy, — J)eing alone, and away from 
my command. But I turned back and went flying, 
I tell you. 

A little after sun-up I came in sight of the gen- 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

eral's party, — just breaking camp and about to be 
off. They had bivouaced inside of a farmer's stable 
lot where there was plenty of oats, cawn and fod- 
der ; something my horse needed mighty bad. The 
general and his staff and escort had mounted and 
were off, before I had dismounted. Dave, the black 
cook, had saved me a mutton chop and some bread, 
and the coffee pot was still on the fire. He was 
busy packing the camp chest and loadin' the camp 
things into the wagon. I put my horse in the stable, 
after giving him his fill at the trough, and shaking 
down some oats and cawn for him, I prepared to 
take a nap on a pile of straw while he was feedin' . 
I had devoured my breakfast meantime. 

Before I had gotten a good hold on my nap, 
"bang," "bang" and keep-on "bang"-ing, went the 
guns close by, and bullets whistled through the barn 
like hail. It was our rear guard. Gen. Jo Wheeler, 
keeping back the enemy's advance, which was 
crowdin' us. General Hardee had a closer call than 
he knew, being already detached from his command 
and goin' it alone. My horse, feeding at the trough, 
was frightened, and jumped around considerable. 
I hastily put on the saddle, and in doing so, I 
dropped this ring from my hand, said the Old Doc- 
tor, here removing from his finger a large, well- 
worn onyx seal ring, which he said his father gave 
him on his sixteenth birthday, and which he prized 
very highly. 

My hands were cold, and the ring, always a little 
8S 



THE BUSHWHACKERS AFTER THE DOCTOR. 

too big for me, slipped off and fell in the straw. I 
was terribly distressed at the thought of leaving it, 
yet the bullets kept warning me that it was about 
time I was thinkin' of gittin' further. It was dark 
in the stable, and just as I had dispaired, and was 
about to mount, a movement of my horse threw a 
gleam of light on the ring. I grabbed it, with a 
handful of the straw, and at a single leap was in 
the saddle and out of that like an arrow. My horse 
seemed to be as much impressed with the necessity 
of getting away as I did. A volley from the enemy 
followed us, — they were now in sight, and our men 
driven back, were in the stable yard. We fairly 
flew. 

A mile away the road ran along at the base of a 
low range of mountains for several miles. As I 
went flying along, — ring still clasped in my hand, 
— hadn't had time to put it on, — "biz," went a 
rifle^ from somewhere on the side of the mountain, 
and the bullet cut my cap. "Bing" went another 
rifle, further down, ahead of me ; and glancing up 
I saw the little ring of smoke made by the old- 
fashioned Kentucky rifle, the old muzzle loader, 
with which I was so familiar in my boy days as a 
squirrel hunter, — the most accurate firing rifle of 
them all. 

I realized that I was now running the gauntlet 

of bushwhackers; stay-at-homes, — Union men, — 

guerillas, as they were variously designated. I just 

laid flat down on my horse's neck, making myself 

89 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

as small as possible, wishing I could make it in- 
visible, — and giving him rein, — no need of spur, — 
he was as much impressed with the "gravity of the 
situation" as was yours truly, — we went like an 
arrow. I have no idea how many cracks they took 
at me, but it seemed like several hundred thousand. 
It was "whiz," as a bullet would go by me; "twang,'' 
as another would ring just over my head ; "bang,'" 
"pop," "biz," for several miles. 

Presently I came in sight of some of our party, — 
an officer of the staff and some teamsters. As I 
rode up, — they were dismounted at a little roadside 
"store," or "grocery," — one said: 

"Here comes the Surgeon, now." 

I rode up, dismounted, and put on my ring. One 
said: 

"Doctor, Bogle is shot." 

Bogle was the wagon master of our headquarters. 
He had gone into a field near by, with two of the 
men and a wagon, by orders of the captain of the 
cavalry escort, to get some cawn. They were en- 
gaged in gathering and loading the wagon with 
cawn, and while so engaged Bogle was shot thro' 
the fleshy part of the shoulder with a minnie ball ; 
while the horse of one of the men was shot thro' 
the head and killed. The horse was killed by the 
bullet from a Kentucky rifle, small bore; and the 
third shot took effect in the horn of the saddle of 
the other man. It was evident that three persons 
had fired, and that each of the party was a target. 
90 



THE BUSHWHACKERS AFTER THE DOCTOR. 

The captain took a squad of men and went up 
on the mountain side where the shots came from, 
and in a little cabin they found an old, gray-bearded 
man, and two strapping mountain boys, of some 
eighteen or twenty. They were bushwhackers, and 
were, by the rules of war, outlawed. The men 
found, secreted in the cabin, a minnie rifle and two 
small-bore Kentucky rifles, the calibres of all of 
which corresponded with the bullet holes in Bogle^s 
shoulder and in the horse's head, and in the saddle, 
and all three rifles were still warm, showing that 
they had Just been discharged. 

That was proof enough. Without judge or jury, 
or the form of a trial or investigation, the old man 
and the two boys were taken out — somewhere, — 
I didn't go; I was busy dressing Bogle's wound. 
But one of the men told me that the old man never 
said a word, but manifested the stoicism of an In- 
dian. 

91 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

A FROG STORY. 



SAID the Old Doctor on this occasion, seating 
himself with his usual make-yourself-at- 
home air: 
While the army was around about Tupelo, Miss., 
after the battle of Shiloh, and General Hardee's 
headquarters were at Tupelo, one afternoon in 
August, after the day's work of the board of med- 
ical examiners was over, I remember that Drs. 
Yandell, Pim, Heustis, the members of the board, 
and myself (I was secretary, you remember I told 
you), were sitting in camp talking and smoking. 
There were other officers of the staff present, also, 
as all of the officers' quarters were near together in 
a nice grove ; and some one of the party, I have for- 
gotten whom, but I think it was Major Kirkland, 
one of the engineer officers, stated it as a fact that a 
toad would swallow coals of fire, and that it would 
not hurt him. He could not explain it, he said, as 
it would hardly do to say that the toad "thought 
the coal was a "lightning bug," or that he 
"thought" at all. But whatever be the reason, it 
was a fact, he said. 

The party laughed at him, and said that his 
credulity was of a robust and full-grown sort ; that 
he was easily imposed upon, and the statement was 
scoffed at and ridiculed. Dr. Yandell said : 

"Come, Kirkland, what do you take us for? 
92 



A FROG STORY. 

That's an old woman's tale that I have heard ail 
my life, but it is not to be supposed that an3'body 
would believe it." 

I didn't say anything. I was too young, and too 
green, and altogether too inexperienced to take ;i 
position on so momentous a question in natural 
history. I had read, however, a good deal about 
toads, and frogs, and other reptiles, in works on 
physiology, and amongst other things I had read, 
somewhere, that away back yonder in the early days 
of Egyptian civilization, the tenacity with which a 
toad clings to life had been observed and recorded ; 
that they had been known to be found walled up in 
solid masonry, I dont know how many centuries 
old; and I remember an instance being cited of .a 
toad having been found in the reign of Kam-Bunk- 
Shus III, or Ram Shaklin, or some of those old 
Egyptian rams, that had been buried a thousand 
years. But I kept mum. 

The major was a little ruffled at the merciless 
way the party guyed him; so, he offered to prove 
it. That made matters worse. They laughed more 
than ever, and that made the major mad. Luckily 
for him and for science, and for the truth of this 
story — 

"Come, now. Doctor; you are not going to tell 
us that yarn for straight, I hope," said Dr. Hud- 
son, Junior Editor of the Journal. "What do you 
take us for?" 

93 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

''Aint 1, though ?'' said the Old Doctor. "It's 
gospel straight, laugh if you will/*' 

As I was saying, it being summer time, and toads 
were plentiful in that country, and it being about 
sunset, presently the major spied a large warty 
toad hopping about as if he were out for a lark; a 
comfortable looking old fellow, — and sending 
Henry, the colored boy, for some coals, we prepared 
for a circus, — a demonstration, — a failure (of 
course), a fight or a foot race. There was great 
interest manifested. A crowd assembled. 

The major, now thoroughly on his mettle, kept 
saying, "I'll show you." 

He went cautiously towards the toad, and with 
thumb and finger, thumped a live coal right plump 
in the frog's path, — right before his face. Well, 
sirs, — that old toad stopped, straightened up, — 
turned his head on one side, and took a square look 
at the coal. It must have been just what he was 
looking for, as he seemed pleased to meet it. His 
eyes shone with a new light, and he made a grab 
at the coal, and swallowed it with apparent relish. 
Fact. His eyes sparkled still more, and beyond 
doubt, he registered the mental reflection that that 
certainly was the much talked of "hot stuff." He 
set out to look for more, I suppose ; but we were not 
done with him yet. 

Dr. Yandell said that the major had taken an 
unfair advantage of the toad ; that he was evidently 
getting old, from his looks, — and his eye sight was 
94 ' 



A FROG STORY. 

not good ; that "the shades of eve were falling fast," 
etc., and that he would bet the toad wouldn't eat 
another. The major repeated the trick with suc- 
cess, several times, till every one was satisfied that 
the toad had not swallowed the fire under a delu- 
sion; he seemed to know it was hot, and rather 
liked it. But Dr. Yandell insisted that it would 
kill the frog; it would surely produce inflamma- 
tion of the stomach; no living creature could take 
fire into its stomach and live, he said. 

Well, sirs; the major said he would make good 
his whole story. He declared that the frog would 
be none the worse for his hot supper. He had 
Henry to get a wooden box and put the toad in it, 
and shut him up over night. As I live, boys, next 
morning that toad was not only alive, but gave un- 
mistakable evidences of being hungry ! He recog- 
nized the major and winked at him; and when a 
candle bug, one of those yellow fellows with a hard 
shell, — was thrown in the box, the frog snapped 
him up like a trout would a minnow ; fact. 



sT ^ 5r 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



POKING FUN AT THE MEDICAL 
DIRECTOR. 



DURING the siege of Atlanta, said our 
Genial Friend on this occasionj looking 
radiant and happy in a new suit of linen, 
his blue eyes twinkling with merriment, when At- 
lanta was headquarters of Hood's army, the Medi- 
cal Director of Hospitals, the venerable Dr. Sam- 
uel Hollingsworth Stout, now living at Dallas, 
Texas, formerly of Giles county, Tennessee, issued 
orders that every patient at the hospital-post of 
Covington, Ga., forty miles below Atlanta, should 
be sent further down into the interior, so as to make 
room at that, the nearest and largest hospital post, 
for the wounded expected during the battle which 
was daily expected, but which hung fire, literally 
speaking, for many weeks. 

There were at Covington some six large hospi- 
tals ; I mean, there were six separate hospital organ- 
izations of large accommodating capacity, but some 
of them occupied four, five or six separate build- 
ings. The Hill hospital was all under one roof, the 
only one that was, — a female college building; but 
the others were simply beds on each side of the 
room, in every little "store," — little rough plank 
one-story buildings, arranged on the four sides of 
the public square, in which stood the court house; 
the stereotyped plan of little towns throughout the 



POKING FUN AT THE MEDICAL DIRECTOR. 

South. The churches were also filled with bunks. 
We didn't have any nice little enameled bedsteads, 
or iron-framed cots; — ours were just rough, un- 
dressed scantlings, knocked together; and our 
feather beds were sacks filled with hay; pillows 
ditto. 

Well, there were on duty at that post, seventeen 
medical officers, I amongst the rest. When the 
patients, all that were able to bear transportation, 
were sent away, and the battle didn't take place, 
and no new arrivals came, there were more doctors 
at the post than patients, and we literally had noth- 
ing to do, but frolic, ride with the girls, have pic- 
nics and fishing parties. But Dr. Stout issued an 
order that each day one of the medical officers 
should be detailed by the post surgeon, of whom, 
by-the-bye, I'll tell you a good story, — to serve as 
"Officer of the Day." From 7 a. m. one day, till 
7 a. m. the next day, he was to be "on duty" ; that 
is, he was to wear a sash and sword, and stay where 
he could be called at night if wanted ; and during 
the day he was to strut around (that wasn't in the 
order, however), and do nothing. There just 
wasn't anything to do, I tell you ; nevertheless, the 
order was that the officer of the day should visit 
and inspect each ward (most of them were empty; 
we were to look for spooks, I reckon), and visit 
every department; kitchen, laundry, — everywhere; 
inspect the food, the cooking, etc., and to make a 
written report every morning to headquarters. 
97 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

All this red tape was nonsense^, and the report 
soon degenerated into a mere statement that every- 
thing was 0. K., — a perfunctory performance of 
about four lines. 

The officer of the day was the only one who would 
stay in town; all the others would go o2 frolicking 
or fishing. By-and-bye Dr. Stout wrote down to 
the post surgeon, saying that the medical officers 
did not show zeal enough in their duties, and that 
they must be required to make more detailed re- 
ports. I made one of twenty-four pages of fools- 
cap, which was all words. I didn't say a thing 
more than I had been saying in four lines, but said 
it differently ; rang all the changes on it. 

It begun by saying : 

"The English language is happily so constructed 
that a great many words of diverse origin and de- 
rivation can be so brought to bear as to convey one 
and the same idea; and consequently, one best 
versed in the resources of the language will natur- 
ally be most facile in its use." "Thus," I said, to 
give an illustration: Instead of saying as Dr. 
Brown did yesterday, that the bread was a little 
scorched, it might be expressed thus: 

"In consequence of inattention, ignorance, in- 
competence, temporary absence or preoccupation of 
the colored divinity who presides over the culinary 
establishment of Ward 3, — vulgarly called the 
'cook,' a part of the nutriment, the subsistence, the 
'grub,' — a very essential part, which was that day 



POKING FUN AT THE MEDICAL DIRECTOR. 

being prepared and intended for the alimentation 
and sustenance of the unfortunate beings who, by 
accident, exposure or fate were at that time sick 
or wounded and lying prone on a roughly extem- 
porized bunk in a building near by, by courtesy 
called a hospital, — sick, wounded or else convales- 
cent, and dependent on others, ourselves, towit, and 
deprived, doubtless much to their sorrow and re- 
gret, of the privilege of being at the front in the 
trenches or on the line of battle, battling for their 
country; towit, the bread, — being too long exposed 
to the oxidizing influence of the oven, had been 
somewhat scorched, burnt, or otherwise injured, 
being thereby rendered unwholesome and unfit for 
the purposes for which it was intended; towit, — 
the nourishment of the said sick, wounded or con- 
valescent soldiers." 

Or the fact that the bread was burnt, I said, 
"might be thus expressed, if one were very scrupu- 
lous as to the elegance of his diction, and wished to 
be exact, and not in the least to mislead or dis- 
appoint the Honorable Medical Director who, we 
knew, in his zeal, was famishing for tidings -from 
the half dozen patients and the seventeen doctors 
at that post, saying nothing whatever as to the 
condition of the bunks and their sole tenants, the 
Lectularius family," and so forth, and so forth. I 
strung her out twenty-four pages, and didn't say 
anything except that the bread was burnt in cook- 
ing. 

99 

L«rc. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Dr. Warmuth (now living at Smyrna, Tenn.), 
came into the post surgeon's office one morning 
where all the officers assembled once a day at least, 
to make his report as officer of the day for the pre- 
ceding twenty-four hours. Dr. Macdonald, an old 
U. S. army surgeon, and a strict disciplinarian, 
was the post surgeon ; a good one on him presently. 
Dr. Warmuth wrote out his report and handed it to 
Dr. Macdonald. He said there was nothing to re- 
port, as usual, except that a pig had fallen into the 
sink in the rear of Ward 3, and he respectfully sug- 
gested that Surgeon , who would now 

come on as officer of the day, be requested to get 
him out. 

Of course they had the laugh on me, and rigged 
me no little about the pig. 

I put on my uniform, — coat buttoned up to the 
chin and devilish uncomfortable, I tell you; sum- 
mer time; fly time, — fishing time, and the trout 
were striking like all-possessed. I put on my sword 
and sash and went on duty as "Officer of the Day ;" 
all the other fellers went fishing, and took all the 
ladies, girls and wives, with them, leaving me, I do 
believe, the sole occupant of the town, outside of 
the hospital people; big fish fry and dance at the 
mill. Just my luck, I said. 

I never once thought of the pig; there was no 
pig in it, of course ; Dr. Warmuth was only poking 
fun at me and the medical director. 

Next morning when we were all assembled in the 
100 



POKING FUN AT THE MEDICAL DIRECTOR. 

post surgeon's office, and Dr. Dick Taylor was 
telling how big that fellow was that broke his hook 
and he didn't catchy and making me green with 
envy, I was reminded that my report was then due, 
and I thought for the first time of that pig. I took 
a piece of paper and a pen, and knocked off this : 
(here the Old Doctor handed Dr. Hudson a news- 
paper clipping) without a break, and gave it to 
Dr. Macdonald: 

"Surgeon Warmuth in reporting mentioned that 
a pig in sporting on the brink of the sink, attracted 
by the od'rous vapors began to cut up divers capers, 
and essayed at last to take a peep into the depths 
of the nasty deep ; but owing to a little dizziness he 
got his pig-ship into business. I heard a squealing, 
which, appealing to every feeling of my nature, I 
quickly ran to get a man to lend a hand to help the 
porcine creature. The pig, in the meantime, be- 
came apprehensive that the stink of the sink (which 
was very offensive), would produce a fit of indi- 
gestion, revolved in his mind the knotty question, 
^To be, or not to be.' He soon decided that if taken 
by our hands we'd save his bacon (not the Friar, 
but the fried), then another effort tried. Striving 
then with might and main, he landed on the land 
again, and scampered off with caper fine, a happier 
and wiser swine." 

Dr. Macdonald began to read : 

^^ha — what's this ?" he said ; '^ — pig in sport- 
ing on the brink of the sink ?" 

101 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"That's my report as officer of the day, sir/' I 
said. 

"Respectfully forwarded to the medical director, 
not approved," he wrote on the back of it. 

Dr. Stout returned it "not approved," and added 
"this dignified officer is expected to make a more 
dignified report." 

But the young fellows in Stout's office "approved" 
of it, and they made copies of it, and it got into 
the Atlanta Constitution. There is where I got 
this; my wife found it with my old war things 
lately. 

^ igf *ff *ff ^ fXf 

Jfi Jid J» Jfi » 

DR. DICK TAYLOR, OF MEMPHIS. 



AMONG- the medical officers at Covington at 
the time I speak of, said the Old Doctor, 
was Dr. Dick Taylor, of Memphis. He 
was a rattler ; — full of fun as a kitten, and as chuck 
full of fight as a buzz-saw. He is living yet, I be- 
lieve. He was an impetuous, hot-headed little fel- 
low, but withal a genial and most companionable 
one. He had his wife with him, and they had a 
little boy about three years old, named "Jesse 
Tate." Mrs. Taylor, like Mrs. Boffins in "Our 
Mutual Friend," was a "high-flyer at fashion,'" — a 
102 



society lady. She was very proud of her little boy, 
and took great pains to train him in the way he 
should go, so that in the sweet bye-and-bye, he 
would not depart therefrom, but follow in the foot- 
steps of his pa (nit). She had taught him the 
name of the President of these United States (tem- 
porarily, then, dis-"United"), the name of the 
President of the Confederate States, the Queen of 
England, and a whole lot of other information that 
it is thought all children should possess, and her 
great pride was to have the little fellow show off 
before company. 

"Jesse Tate," his mother would say, "Who is 
President of the Confederate States ?" 

"Jeff Davis," the little chap would say. 

"Who is Queen of England?" 

"Victoria," Jesse would answer stoutly, and so 
on ; she would put him through his paces before all 
callers. 

Dr. Dick got tired of this nonsense, and he pur- 
posely confused the boy for a joke. 

"Jesse Tate," he would say, "Who is President 
of the United States?" 

"Abraham " 

"Tut, tut," his daddy would say. "Queen Victo- 
ria is President of the United States." "Now, 
who is Queen of England? 

"Vic .'-' 

"Tut-tut," his father would say, "You mean 
Jeff Davis," and so on, until he got the little fellow 
103 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

SO confused that he didn't know which from 
'tother. 

One day some fashionable ladies called, and of 
course Jesse Tate had to go through his perform- 
ances. 

"Jesse Tate/' his mother said, "tell Mrs. Hen- 
derson^ like a good little boy, who is President of 
the United States." 

"Queen Vic Davis/' said Jesse stoutly. 

"Oh, no, my son; you forgot; Abraham Lincoln 
is the President of the United States." 

"Abraham Lincoln," said the child. 

"Now tell Mrs. Henderson; who is the Queen of 
England?" 

"Jeff Toria," said Jesse Tate. 

Poor Mrs. Taylor was mortified beyond expres- 
sion. She said: 

"That's some of Dr. Taylor's work; he's always 
spoiling the child." 

One morning when we had assembled in Dr. 
Macdonald's office as usual. Dr. Macdonald who, 
you remember, had been a U. S. army officer, and 
was a great stickler for etiquette, said to Dr. Tay- 
lor: 

"Doctor Taylor, I am much pained and surprised 
to hear that you so far forgot yourself yesterday, 
as I understand, as to curse one of the men, — a 
private. Kenned}^, the ward master, complained 
to me yesterday that you had cursed him. You 
'^ 104 



DK. DICK TAYLOR, OF MEMPHIS. 

ought to remember, Doctor, that in this war we are 
engaged in a cause almost holy ; we are all brothers ; 
our soldiers are citizens, — not hirelings, — and at 
home, for all you may know, Kennedy^s social posi- 
tion may be as good as yours. It is only the acci- 
dent of war that makes you an officer and him a 
private. Reverse the situation; and suppose that 
you were a private ; how would you like for any one 
to curse you, just because he was an officer? You 
should treat the private soldiers with all kindness 
and consideration, because of their defenceless posi- 
tion and the hardships " 

Just then Kennedy burst in at the door, which 
had been closed, and in great excitement, ex- 
claimed : 

"Doctor Macdonald, the house is on fire !" 

Macdonald, furious with rage and anger, had 
already, before Kennedy had gotten the words out 
of his mouth, jumped up, and had seized a chair 
and was in the act of knocking Kennedy into king- 
dom-come, saying: 

"You d — m'd scoundrel ! — how dare you enter 
my office without knocking?" 

"But, Doctor, the house is on fire !" said poor 
Kennedy. 

"I dont care if it is," said Macdonald; "Fll 
teach you to knock at my door when you have any- 
thing to communicate to me V 

We pacified him bye-and-bye. Kennedy had 
gone, crestfallen and much hurt. 
105 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"Doctor Macdonald/' said Dick Taylor, "I am 

pained and surprised to see that you would so far 

forget yourself as to curse a private. You should 

remember, Doctor, that we are engaged in a holy 

cause, and that we are all brothers, and " 

"Oh, you be hanged," said Macdonald. 
* * * * 

I had rooms in the house occupied by Dr. Taylor 
and his wife and Jesse Tate. It was a little cottage 
of four rooms and a hall through the center. It 
was Dr. Taylor's invariable custom to take a nap 
after dinner. It was summer. He would spread a 
pallet on the floor in the hallway, and would snooze 
an hour or so every afternoon. 

I used to sit on the little gallery, or "porch," as 
they called it in Georgia, and read, usually, mean- 
time. I had brought with me from Mississippi one 
of my men, a slave, a big black fellow named Jim. 
Jim was a kind of Jack-at-all-trades. I had given 
him permission to open a barber shop on his own 
account on the corner near our house. Of course 
he went by my name, and he had up a little sign, 
^'Barber Shop," and his name underneath. 

One afternoon the shop was closed, I suppose, for 
a big strapping fellow, a "sick soldier," — a "hospi- 
tal rat" as the chronic stayers were called, — a great 
gawky six-footer, — had been there to get shaved, I 
suppose, and not finding Jim, made inquiry for 
him, and had been directed to me, his owner, for 
information as to his whereabouts, as Jim went by 
106 



DR. DICK TAYLOR, OF MEMPHIS. 

my name. So, this "grim, gaunt and ungainly'' 
specimen came up to the little porch where I was 
sitting, reading, and with an attempt at a salute 
that looked more like grabbing at a fly than a 
salute, said: 

"Is you the man what keeps the barber shop ?" 

The spirit of mischief, always on me, prompted 
me to say, very kindly : 

"No ; there he is, lying down in the hall. He told 
me to call him if anybody came ; walk in." 

So, the big fellow went in, and waked Taylor up. 
I dodged behind the corner of the house, for I knew 
what was coming. 

Out came the fellow, at double-quick, and Taylor 
right at his heels, smashing Mrs. Taylor's little 
rocking chair over his head and back, and at every 
lick making the atmosphere purple with remarks 
that wont do to print. 

"The confounded scoundrel !" said Taylor, when 
he was able to speak; "To have the impudence to 
wake me up, and, damn him, to ask if I was the 
man that keeps the barber shop ! — your nigger !" 
107 



> JS 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

PRESUMPTIVE EVIDENCE. 



MY WIFE had a pretty, bright little darkey 
named ^Tlora." She was about ten 
years old, and while not old enough or 
trustworthy enough for nurse for the baby, she was 
an excellent hand to amuse him, and to keep him 
from swallowing the tack hammer, for instance. 
She was an admirable mimic, and^ like many of her 
race, was a born musician. I remember she got 
hold of a harmonicon, somewhere, one of those lit- 
tle cheap toy things that now sell for a dime, and 
it is astonishing the amount of "harmony" she 
could get out of it. 

My wife undertook to teach Flora to read. She 
got one of those little blue-back primers, in which 
there is a picture to illustrate the simple words. 
Like Smike in "Nicholas Nickelby,'^ whom old 
Squeers, the Yorld;own schoolmaster made spell 
"horse,'' and then go and curry his horse and feed 
him, so as to impress it upon the mind; there was 
"a-x, ax," and a picture of an ax; "o-x, ox," and 
a picture of an ox, and so on. Flora learned very 
rapidly to spell "a-x, ax," and "o-x, ox," and "j-u-g 
jug," etc., and could rattle it off nicely. 

One day my wife, suspecting that Flora was get- 
ting along too fast, — that she was not learning to 
connect the sound of the letters with the object, 
after putting her through all of the "a-x, ax," and 
108 



A CLOSE CALL. 

"b-o-x, box/' exercise, put her thumb over the little 
picture of the ox, and said : 

"Flora, what is that?" 

"0-x, ox," said Flora. 

"How did you know that was '^o-x, ox?' " said my 
wife. 

"I see'd his tail," said Flora, with a shame-faced 
grin. 



jT 5r 5r 



A CLOSE CALL— A BAD STAND AND A 
WORSE RUN. 



I'VE BEEIST tellin' you fellers about Covington 
a good deal, said the Fat Philosopher at next 
visit, — but I b'lieve I didnt tell you about the 
time I was killed, did I ? No ? 

Well, it was while there were so few patients 
there and so many doctors, — that General Stead- 
man, or Stoneman, I dont recollect which, — dont 
make much difference, — raided the place. We 
thought maybe he had heard of the state of affairs 
there, and being short on real good doctors sought 
this opportunity to replenish. 

Now, surgeons, — non-combatants, are usually 
not taken prisoners ; but on this occasion we feared 
109 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

that finding so many of us, and with nothing to 
do, he'd relieve the Southern Confederacy of the 
tax of feedin^ us. At any rate, we feared that the 
yanks might take along some of us, at least, if only 
as specimens, leaving only enough to care for the 
few remaining sick and wounded at that post. 

Now, like the parable in the Bible about all those 
fellers who were invited to a party and didn't want 
to go, every feller had some excuse. For my part, 
like also one of the aforesaid, I had "married a 
wife," and we had a baby, and it would have been 
exceedingly inconvenient, to say the least, for me 
to make a trip North, even at the invitation of so 
distinguished a gentleman as General Whateverhis- 
namewas, without the wife and baby, especially. I 
particularly didn't relish the idea of visiting John- 
son's Island at that season of the year, however 
attractive that place might be thought by others to 
be; so, when the news of the approach of the raid- 
ers was received, every man at the post lit out for 
the timber to hide and wait till the clouds rolled 
by. We never dreamed that they would want us so 
bad as to pursue us. It never occurred to any of 
us that the Federal army might be so short on doc- 
tors as to have these fellers scour the woods for a 
let thought to be particularly choice. But they did. 

Lesassieur and I (Lesassieur of New Orleans; 

he was bookkeeper at the hospital), we hid in a 

thicket, down in a little creek bottom about two 

miles from town, and kept as still as mice. By-and- 

110 



A CLOSE CALL. 

bye we heard the yanks talking, and heard the rat- 
tle of their accoutrements and the tramp of their 
horses hoofs up on the hill to our left, and quite 
near us. It is likely, if we had staid still they 
would have passed us unobserved; but Lesassieur, 
like a fool, jumped up and ran. And I, like an- 
other fool, did the same. 

There was a dense woods, the river bottom or 
swamp, about half a mile off, and that was our des- 
tination. We knew if we could reach that cover, 
pursuit would be impossible and would cease. But 
we had to cross an "old field" of broom sage before 
getting to it, and it was separated from the old 
field by a ten-rail fence. Across the field Lesassi- 
eur w^ent like a scared rabbit, and cleared the fence 
at a single bound, as easily as a buck could have 
done it. 

Now, as a jumpist I was never regarded by my 
many admiring friends with that degree of enthu- 
siasm with which they regarded my many other 
accomplishments; and as for running, — well, — I 
never practiced, you know. I followed as fast as 
I could, however, but not near fast enough to keep 
even in speaking distance of Lesassieur. He was 
scared, — that's what ailed him. I thought, how- 
ever, that a bad run Avas better than a bad stand, 
so I put in the best licks I knew how. Of course 
I wasn't scared; — oh^ no. I just desired to advise 
Lesassieur to hurry up. He had an old mother, he 
111 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

said, who would grieve for him if lie came up 
missin'. 

I hadn't gotten half way across this field when 
the yankees hove in sight. They were in hot pur- 
suit, — seven of them, well mounted. They began 
to fire at me about three hundred yards off, and 
came with a whoop. They yelled like Comanche 
Indians. They were elated, I dont doubt, at the 
prospect of capturing an unusually fine specimen, 
— a young one. 

They were getting uncomfortably near, and 
'^bang," "zip," ^^Dang'' went the guns, the bullets 
hitting the ground all around me. The situation 
was getting serious. Lordy, — everything mean that 
I had ever done in my life went through my mind 
like a panorama in brilliant colors. I recalled with- 
out an effort all those things that I had done which 
I hadn't orter done, and similarly all those things 
that I had left undone, etcetera, and I felt that 
there was "no health in me" (see Sunday School 
books) ; and it did look as if very soon there would 
be no breath in me. At least that wasn't a very 
healthy place for doctors ahout then. Something 
had to be "did," and that pretty quick, or I'd be a 
•cold corpus, and my wife a widow, to say nothing of 
the great loss to science and the Confederate army. 

I had in my hand a small mahogany watch box, 

in which was my wife's watch, her diamond ring, 

and some eighty dollars in gold coin. (Lordy, if 

those yanks had known it.) My own fine watch I 

112 



A CLOSE CALL. 



had m my pocket, but no sign of it was visible, you 
bet. I had prudence enough to not tempt those 
young men; it would have been wrong. Presently 
a bullet struck that box and shattered it, scattering 
the contents "'promiscuous.'' 

I saw that I would be killed before I could reach 
the fence, and you know a feller thinks mighty fast 
when death is looking him in the face at short 
range. Stratagem came to my mind. I stopped, 
faced my pursuers, who, by that time were coming 
on the run, one feller checking up now and then 
to take a crack at me,— and throwing up my hands, 
waved my handkerchief in token of surrender. But,' 
confound them, their early education in the ethics 
of war had evidently been neglected; they didn't 
know what a flag of truce was (it was a clean 
handkerchief, or I would not have much blamed 
them for not recognizing it). "Zip,'^ "zip" went 
the bullets still, cutting pretty close, but missing 
me. At the pop of the next shot, I threw up both 
hands, and fell heavily forward,— dead,— thev 
thought. "^ 

"Oh, I fetched him that time," said one. 
In an instant they were all around me. I laid 
still. One fellow was drunk, and when he found I 
was not dead he pointed his gun at me and fired. 
He would have unquestionably finished me but for 
a boy, the youngest of the party, who knocked the 
gun up just in time to save me.' 

"Oh, dont shoot a wounded prisoner," said he 
113 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"Are you miicli hurt ?" asked one of them. 

"No," I said, — very much at a loss how to round 
it off, fearing that when they found I had tricked 
them they would kill me. "I am not hit at all; 
but I saw^ I would be killed, so I offered to surren- 
der, but you kept shooting, and that was the only 
way I could think of to make you stop ; I surrender 
to tliis man,'' said I, pointing to the boy. 

I got up on the boy's horse behind him, and slip- 
ped a $5 gold piece in his hand (one I had picked 
up of my scattered coin). The drunken man still 
wanted to shoot me. The boy gave me a pull at his 
canteen, for I was nearly famished for water. I 
was "spittin' cotton." Do you fellers know what 
that is? The boy said: 

"I'll protect 3^ou and take you to the general." 

The general, as soon as he saw that I was a sur- 
geon, released me and said: 

"'What did you run for? You might have been 
killed; we dont take medical officers prisoner." 

You bet I had a big attack of glad. I went home 
to my wife and baby with a glad heart. Dinner 
was about ready; we had a good dinner, too, and I 
made that yankee cavalry boy sit right down to the 
table with us, and we just treated him like a 
brother. We stuffed his haversack with pies and 
apples, and gave him a bottle of home-made scup- 
p^rnong wine, ten years old, a product for which 
the Greorgia people are famous. I wish I knew what 
114 



SMUGGLES CONTRABAND SUPPLIES. 

became of that boy. I kept his name and home 
address a long time, but lost it, somehow. 

Find my stuff? Well, yes,— most of it. Next 
day I went to the spot. (I thought at one time of 
erecting a monument to me on the spot where I fell 
a martyr to the Lost Cause, — where the yankees 
killed me,— as they thought.) I hunted around 
in the broom sage where I fell, and was lucky 
enough to find most of the contents of my box; 
IVe forgotten now, how much of it was missin\ 

iS- mr Mf 

j» » 

THE DOCTOR SMUGGLES CONTRA- 
BAND SUPPLIES* 



AFTER the storm was over, the post was 
broken up,— we were then in the enemy's 
lines, — and I was left there (at Coving- 
ton), in charge of a lot of bad cases that couldn't 
be moved. Old man Giles, who had a little drug 
store, which, like everything else, was rifled, gutted, 
— robbed, came to me and said : 

"Doctor, the yankees in plundering my store 

overlooked twenty bottles of chloroform. It was in 

the bottom of a box, with a false bottom over it. 

They took everything else that was in the box, and 

115 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

thought they had gotten to the bottom, when they 
hadn't. Let me sell it to you for the Southern 
Confederacy/' 

"What will you take for it, Mr. Giles?" I said. 
"You know I have nothing but Confederate 
money." 

"That's good enough for me/' said the loyal old 
fellow. "I reckon it's worth fifteen dollars a bottle, 
aint it? And as the bottles are only about two- 
thirds full, we'll call the twenty bottles fifteen.*' 
(The fact is, there was a pound of chloroform in 
each bottle ; but I didn't know it till I went to dis- 
pose of it in Augusta later.) So, I paid him for 
fifteen bottles at $15 a bottle, $225 Confed. 

I took my twenty bottles of chlorofom to my 
room, and by filling each one reduced them to 
fifteen, thus saving space in packing. I hid them 
securely in the bottom of a small trunk, and taking 
the hint from Mr. Giles' experience, I put a bot- 
tom over them, a false bottom, for, being in the 
enemy's lines, I didn't know, if overhauled by i 
picket at any time on my way to Augusta, when I 
should be ready to go, but that the precious chloro- 
form would be taken from me, which it surely 
would have been; it was contraband, and much 
needed by our people. Well, sirs, I finally got away 
the last of my sick and wounded, all who didn't die, 
poor fellows, and with my wife and young baby 
and my cook and nurse, I went to the nearest place 
where the railroad was not torn up, and took a 
116 



SMUGGLES CONTRABAND SUPPLIES. 

train for Augusta, which place we reached without 
accident or incident worth mentioninsr. 

o 

The very first person I met whom I knew was 
Peterson, of the medical purveyor's department, 
out looking for — chloroform ! Said he : 

"I'm on track of a lot of chloroform that I was 
told a blockade runner has brought in. I want to 
see what else she has." 

I said : "What are you paying for chloroform ?" 

"We need it dreadfully, and Dr. Young sent me 
out to look for some, and if I came across any, to 
get, it, at whatever price," said Peterson. 

"Perhaps I can put you onto a lot, say, fifteen 
or twenty pounds; — what shall I say to the party 
it is worth ?" I said. 

"That aint the question; can I get itf' insisted 
Peterson excitedly. 

"I'll see the party by 4 p. m. and let you know ; 
but a price will have to be fixed, some time," said I. 

"Offer her" (the most fearless and successful 
smugglers thro' the lines were "she's"), "offer her 
two hundred dollars a pound," said Peterson, get- 
ting more excited, "and if she says that is not 
enough, make it three hundred. Anything to get 
the chloroform." 

I then told him that I had fifteen bottles, and 
stated that I had bought it in twenty bottles, but 
that they were not full, and that I had consolidated 
it to reduce bulk. I told him that I had brought 
it purposely to turn over to the Confederate author- 
117 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

ities, knowing how much it was needed, and that I 
would not accept any such price for it as he was 
recklessly offering; that I had only paid $15 per 
bottle, and called it fifteen bottles, and that the gov- 
ernment should have it for what it cost me. 

He wouldn't hear to the proposition. 

"Why," said he, "1 would have to pay anybody 
else a big price for it, and would be glad to get it. 
You had all the trouble and risk of smuggling it 
in, and if you had been caught you would have been 
sent to prison at Johnson's Island, or elsewhere, 
and I aint a going to rob you in any such way.'' 

And in spite of my protests he made out dupli- 
cate papers at $150 per pound, and informed me 
that there were full twenty pounds in the lot, — 
just ten times as much per pound as I had paid for 
it, and I got a pound and a quarter to the pound. 
He paid me $3000. My stars, Dan'els, if such 
speculations were possible now, wouldn't a feller 
get rich ? 

"Xo, Doctor ; not your sort of ^fellers' and mine. 
It would be a case like the man who, at one time in 
his life, he said, could have bought a league of land 
in Texas for a pair of boots, — but he didn't have 
the boots," I answered. 

♦ ^ ♦ Hs 

At that time 3^ou could buy anything at any price 

asked for it, with the absolute certainty of doubling 

your money on it next day, perhaps, — in a short 

time, at least, things rose so fast, or, rather, Con- 

118 



SMUGGLES CONTRABAND SUPPLIES. 

fed. script declined so fast. Why, an officer couldn't 
live on his pay, and but for speculations, opportu- 
nities for which were frequent, he would have been 
confined to the army ration of beef and hard tack ; 
couldn't afford sweetnin' and coffee; I mean, real, 
shonuff coffee, or anything. I recollect, my pay 
and commutation for quarters and fuel and horse 
feed amounted to $365 a month. Think of that, 
and coffee scarce at $50 to $75 a pound. 

I remember one day I bought a wagon load of 
home tanned leather from a countryman, and with- 
out unloading it from the wagon, sold it to the 
town storekeeper at $1200 profit ; and made $2000 
on a barrel of peach brandy after drinking off. of 
it a week. Fact. (And the Old Doctor smacked 
his lips at the bare recollection of the delicious 
aroma of the Georgia home made peach brandy.) 

I believe, said he, that what Homer called the 
"Nectar of the Gods" was Georgia peach brandy. 
* * * * 

When left at Covington, as stated, in charge of 
the few bad cases after the raid, I found on hand 
at the hospital quite a supply of New Orleans 
molasses, and a deficit of nearly everything else. 
I sent four barrels to Augusta and sold it, and with 
the money bought chickens and such things as the 
men needed. They couldn't live on molasses, you 
know, tho' I, myself, am pretty fond of sweet 
things. I can show you fellers today, the account 
of sales of that molasses at $37.50 per gallon. 
119 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



THE HOSPITAL SOLDIER, 



SAID our ever welcome visitor on this occa- 
sion : The hospital soldier, — the "convales- 
cents," they were generally called, — tho' 
many of them had convalesced so long ago that they 
had forgotten they were ever sick, — were omnipres- 
ent and all-pervading. About towns and villages 
they were simply everywhere. They invaded prem- 
ises on any and all and no pretexts; loafed, stole 
fruit, — well, as they say now, — the woods were full 
of them. Go where you would, there you would see 
more or less gaunt, gray-clad figures, usually very 
dirty. Of course this was a class of soldiers, mostly 
conscripts, who would resort to almost anything to 
escape duty in the field. The better element were 
true Southerners, and as soon as able to leave the 
hospital would hasten back to their commands. It 
was not uncommon to see a soldier twice or thrice 
wounded. But there were hosts of pretenders, 
called, in war times, "malinguerers." I do not 
know the etymology of the word. It often required 
much watching and some ingenuity on the part of 
the surgeon to detect these fellows. 

I remember one fellow who pretended to have a 
stiff knee. He played it on the surgeons for nearly 
a year. We were deceived by the fact that this 
party was an educated man and of good family. 
He should have been too proud to shirk duty and 
120 



THE HOSPITAL SOLDIER. 

play off, but he wasn't. I say should have been too 
proud. It is pride, pride of character, self-respect, 
regard for the opinions of others that makes a man 
brave. But for this element in the soldier's make- 
up, there are few who would face a charge. There 
would be no Hobsons, no Cushings. 

This man had a soft position as bookkeeper in 
one of the hospitals. By-and-bye we began to sus- 
pect that that knee was not quite as stiff as he made 
believe, and we proposed to put him under chloro- 
form to break up the adhesions, we told him; not 
intimating, of course, that we suspected him. He 
had said it was the result of rheumatism, and 
adhesions were supposed to exist. He expressed 
himself as being very anxious to have his leg 
restored to usefulness, and he could not very well 
do otherwise than consent to the proposition. Some 
of the hospital attendants had told us that this 
fellow was a fraud, and that they had seen him 
when off his guard, skipping along as brisk as a 
mink ; but when he was hailed, the leg immediately 
got stiff, and he went to limping. 

Three of the surgeons had an understanding that 
they would get everything ready to operate, and at 
the last moment remember that something was for- 
gotten, so as to create a delay while the patient was 
in position, in order to test the powers of the volun- 
tary muscles of the leg. 

The man was accordingly put upon the table, the 
leg laid bare, and everything gotten ready for the 
121 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

chloroform. He was lying on his back, with the 
legs just far enough down to bring the edge of the 
table under the knee. Just then I said : 

"Here, — this is not the bottle of chloroform I 
want ; there is a better sort on my desk I got out for 
this case ; go and bring it quick.^' 

(The messenger, however, had his cue that he 
was not to bring it quick.) 

The stiff leg held out manfully ; but it must have 
looked to the poor fellow that the man would never 
come with that chloroform. Presently the leg 
couldn't stand the strain any longer. It began to 
weaken and droop. As quick as a flash he would 
jerk it up, — but d-o-w-n it would go again, until 
the extensors just became paralyzed; human nature 
couldn't stand it, and the leg and foot just slowly 
went down, down, till that leg was as limber as the 
other. The game was up. He saw he was caught. 
He just got up, and putting a bold front on said: 

"Well, gentlemen, you have beat me. I reckon 
I had better go back to my command." 

"Yes," said I, "I think you had." 

And he went. 

122 






THE HOSPITAL DIETARY. 



THE HOSPITAL DIETARY, 



NICE DISTINCTIONS WITH LITTLE DIFFER- 
ENCE. 

AS MIGHT be expected from the character of 
the food, the cooking, which was of the 
most primative sort, the irregular life and 
the exposure, — the vicissitudes of the solider's life, 
diarrhoea was the prevalent, the almost universal 
disease, both in camp and in hospital. N'o matter 
what else a patient had, he had diarrhoea. 

The Medical Director of Hospitals arranged a 
diet table, and all the hospital medical officers were 
required to prescribe what was theoretically sup- 
posed to be appropriate diet for each patient. There 
was "Full Diet," "Half Diet," and "Low Diet," 
but the victualing range was so limited that there 
was more of a distinction than a difference between 
them. Full diet was beef and cawn bread, and 
whatever else could be had, such as vegetables. 
Half diet was soup and toast, and such like ; while 
low diet was rice and milk, — if you could get the 
milk. The poor fellows got awfully tired of rice. 
I remember one poor fellow, a delicate, thin boy, 
convalescent from a long spell of typhoid fever, the 
curse of camp and hospital. He needed nothing 
so much as wholesome, nourishing food. Eice and 
milk was his portion day in and day out. At last 
he revolted : 

123 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

^'Take it away/' he said; "I had just as soon 
lie down and let the moon shine in m}^ mouth as to 
eat rice." 

And I am much of his way of thinking. 
* * * * 

On the surgeon's rounds every convalescent was 
expected and required to be at or on his bunk. We 
would go to each one and ask about his bowels, and 
prescribe "low diet." In a half hour after, if one 
should go out behind the barn or elsewhere, those 
convalescents would be found with haversacks full 
of green peaches or green apples or cucumbers or 
whatever else they could get, devouring them raven- 
ously. Of course, they never got well. Diarrhoea 
got to be second nature with many of them. 

Speaking of melinguerers, there was a class of 
older men, for the most part conscripts of the 
farmer, or tramp class, who did hate the very sight 
of a gun, and many of them would manage to get 
sent to the hospital on some pretext or another, and 
as said, they made a protracted visit in most cases. 
A specimen of this class was an old ignorant fellow 
named Dusenberry. I found him amongst some 
new arrivals one morning, sitting on the side of a 
bunk, all drawn up. Of course, his name and reg- 
iment had been entered, and the diagnosis, ^'diar- 
rhoea" recorded by the clerk, — diarrhoea, if nothing 
else. It was always a safe refuge: "Di-ur-ree," 
most of them called it. 

When I got to him on my rounds, I said: 
124 



THE HOSPITAL DIETAKY. 

"Well^ my friend^ what is the matter with you?" 

"Well, Doc/' — they would call all of the medical 
officers "Doc/' the familiarity of the style, it seems, 
was intended as a manifestation of a friendly re- 
gard and to propitiate; I need not say it was not 
always appreciated, nor accepted in the spirit in 
which it was offered. "Well, Doc," he answered, 
"I mostly dont know 'zackly what ails me. I've got 
a misery in my chist, a soreness in my jints, 
a-a-kinder stiffness in my back, and a hurtin' a-1-1 
over!" 

"Got the '^di-ur-ree f said I, recognizing a make- 
believe at once. 

"Yes, yes, Doc," he eagerly assented, "got it 
purty bad. 

"Got the hypochondriasis ?" said I, with a show 
of concern. 

"The worst you ever see'd, Doc," replied the man. 

"Put this man on low diet," I said to the nurse, 
and later, I told him to "watch him." 

I found at another bunk a burly Irishman, who 
was real sick. I will say here, I never found an 
Irishman "malinguering," — playing off. They 
made the best soldiers, as a rule, of any class, and 
you bet I am a friend to the whole race ! God bless 
them, and give them "Quid Ireland/' — a free coun- 
try, as a rightful inheritance ! I said to him, with 
a view of finding out what was the matter, and 
what had been done for him before he came to me : 
125 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"What treatment have you had, my friend?" 
(meaning medical). 
"Dom'd bad, Doc;" said he. 

♦ H^ ♦ * 

One night there was an arrival of a large number 
of sick and wounded, and every bunk was filled. All 
hands (but one, I learned later), went to work to re- 
lieve their necessifies. I was busy with them, when 
one of the young assistant surgeons who had lately 
been sent to report to me, came and said that a lot 
of new patients had been sent to his ward, and 
asked me if I "wanted him to attend to them to- 
night?" 

I just looked at him, a straight look, full of 
meaning, but said not a word. He attended to 
them. I mention this to show that there were doc- 
tors and doctors, then as now, and that the "beats" 
were not all conscripts and privates. 

A MEDICAL '^HIGH DADDY.^ 



WHE^ I took charge of one of the hospitals 
at Marietta, said the genial Old Doctor, 
I found a great many soldiers there, appa- 
rently well and able to do duty in the field. There 
seemed to be as many attendants as patients. So, 
T had a cleaning up, a sifting out, and thus re- 
126 



A MEDICAL "high DADDY." 

cruited the ranks in the field, considerably. Every 
man capable of bearing and shooting a gun was 
needed at the front. 

I had noticed a very officious chap acting as ward 
master or nurse in one of the wards ; a big, strong, 
country fellow, strapping and hale. He is the fel- 
low Dr. West told me of afterwards, who, on being 
instructed to give a certain patient a pill every two 
hours during the night, counted up that there 
would be six times to give medicine, and, I suppose, 
he reasoned that if one pill is good, six are better ; 
he just gave the patient all six at one dose, and laid 
down to sweet repose. 

When I got to this fellow,— they were all stand- 
ing in a row, the attendants and supernumeraries, 
and I would question them and dispose of them 
"on their merits," as the saying is. I said : 
"Well, sir, what command do you belong to?" 
He was the most impudent looking fellow imag- 
inable. He had a supercilious look, and when he 
spoke he turned his head on one side, after the 
manner of Mr. Pecksniff; he evidently had a good 
opinion of himself. He had been sent to hospital 
for some sickness (probably), but had been well so 
long he had forgotten it. He had probably gone 
from one hospital to another down the road as the 
sick were shifted lower down. It was a great trick 
for convalescents,— his sort, to get to accompany 
the sick to hospital, and they managed to make a 
good long stav, on one pretext and another. 
127 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"What command do you belong to?" I said. 

"Me?" said he. 

"Yes, — you." 

"I belong to the 42nd/' he replied. 

"The42ndw/ia^r saidl. 

He looked at me in pity and surprise, and said : 

"The 42nd rigbnent" (with accent on "ment"). 

"Yes, I know," I said, "but what State? The 
42nd regiment of what State troops?" 

His surprise increased, and with astonishment 
depicted on his countenance, not unmixed with 
commiseration for my ignorance, he said: 

"Why,— the 42nd GEOEGIA, of course," as if 
there were no other troops in the field that he had 
ever heard of. 

"Well," I said, — "what are you doing here ? You 
are not sick now ?" 

"ME?" he said. 

"Yes; you." 

"Why, — I'm — er-er, — I'm the chief, — head, — 
medical, eT-er-medical medicine-giver-of ward 
three !" in tones of surprise, that I should not be 
aware of a fact of such stupendous importance. He 
gave it to me slowly, for fear, evidently, of collapse. 
As it was, it had a most prostrating effect on me. 

"Well," I said, — "I think you ought to be pro- 
moted. Go back to the 42nd 'rigiment/ and tell 
your colonel to make you head chief, medical or 
otherwise, bullet arrester; you'll be good to stop a 
bullet from some less important person." 
128 



HIS IDEA OF HAPPINESS. 



HIS IDEA OF HAPPINESS. 



1EEMEMBEE once I was standing at the gate 
of the hospital talking to Dr. Pringle, the vil- 
lage doctor^ who, having by some means es- 
caped conscription, or was exempt in some way 
from military service, for you must know that 
before the war was ended everybody had to go; 
ever3rthing that could shoot a gun had to go to 
the front. Oh, war is just hell, as Grant said, and 
no mincing it, if you'll excuse an emphatic remark 
by way of parenthesis. At first the best men volun- 
teered. As they were killed or died their places had 
to be filled, and if there were not volunteers, — and 
later, — there were not many, — the conscript officers 
got what was left. The first conscription took 
all men between 20 and 45; then, between 45 and 
60; then between 16 and 20. "Robbing both the 
cradle, and the grave," one fellow expressed it. 
Hence, to see a man at home, and in citizen's 
clothes was indeed a rare sight. 

Dr. Pringle was a handsome, dapper little fellow 
of the band-box sort. He was about forty, — very 
dressy, and smelt of sweet soap. His shirt front 
was starchy and stiff, and his black cloth suit was 
neatly brushed. He was real pretty to look at; 
such a contrast to his surroundings. 

While we were in conversation, some half dozen 
or more '"hospital soldiers,'^ "convalescents," had 
129 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

gathered around, and with mouths agape were 
listening to our conversation. Presently one cadav- 
erous looking cuss, — the very picture of diarrhoea 
and the effects of diarrhoea, drawled out : 

"Doctor, you ought to be a mighty happy m-a-n" 
(with rising inflection on "man''). 

"Why so, my friend?" said the doctor. 

"'Cause you've got on a biled shirt, and your 
bowels aint outen order," replied the poor fellow. 

9Xf 9^ iXf iXf ^ i^ 

jm j^ j» jn sfi 



WHY HE WAS WEARY. 



THAT reminds me of a good one, said the Old 
Doctor, when he could get his breath after 
laughing over the recollection of the fellow 
and his notion of perfect happiness. 

There was a dandified little chap, a sweet-scented 
chap, literally, for he was always perfumed with 
Lubin's extract, — who was on duty, detailed as 
clerk in the commissary department. He claimed 
to be a nephew of General Joseph E. Johnston, and 
was generally known as, and called by the officers 
at that post, "Uncle Joseph's ISTephew." He was 
a pretty blonde; parted his hair in the middle. It 
was curly and pretty, and he had the loveliest little 
blonde mustache. His name was Mitchell, but he 
130 



WHY HE WAS WEARY. 

called it "Meshelle/' He was immensely fond of 
ladies, — the 3'oung ones, — who petted him and 
made him a bigger fool than he was naturally. He 
was great on the sing; had a little creakv falsetto 
voice, and he trummed a little on the guitar. He 
wrote "poetry''; quoted sentimental pieces, partic- 
ularly from Tom Moore. In brief, he was a pretty 
good specimen of Hotspur's "fop." 

One summer afternoon, lolling in an easy chair, 
surrounded by a bevy of pretty girls, I saw him on 
the little gallery or porch of the residence of one 
of Covington's best families. The girls, half dozen 
of them, perhaps, were fanning him and petting 
him as he leaned back with the most affected air, 
and they were importuning him to sing. The bal- 
cony extended out to, and was flush with the side- 
walk. Of course, a lot of "convalescents" had 
assembled to listen; they were everywhere where 
there was a prospect of anything whatever going 
on or happening, or likely to happen. They would 
seem to spring out of the ground. One of the girls 
was saying: 

"N"ow, Captain Meshelle(with accent on ^shelle') , 
you must sing some for us." (Captain, no thin' ; 
he was just a private. The only thing "Captain" 
about him was the trimmin's on his coat.) 

"Oh, Miss Sue, — I cawnt sing, you know; only 
a little for my own amusement," said this swell, 
with an air that, as Sut Lovingood would say, made 
my big toe itch ; I felt like kicking him. 
131 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"No, Captain, but we know you can sing, and do 
sing. Maggie says you sing just too lovely for miy- 
thing, and we will take no denial/^ urged one of 
the girls. 

"Do sing some for us. Captain," said another, — 
a pretty little black-eyed Miss ; "Puss has come over 
tonight just especially to hear you sing, and it will 
be such a disappointment if you dont." 

^^What then, shall I sing?" said the "Captain." 

"Oh, — just aw^-thing; anything you like," said 
all of the girls in chorus ; "We'll leave it to you." 

Thus encouraged and urged, our little dude 
straightened up, and with a finiky air, his eyes 
turned up like a dying goose, in a little falsetto 
voice he began: 

"W-h-y — am I so w-e-a-k and w-e-a-r-y " 

(with a heavy prolonged accent on "we"). 

At that interestino^ point one of the gray-backs 
who had been peeking through the ballusters of the 
little gallery, sang out : 

"Hits ^cause you've got the di-ur-ree, you Sunday 
galoot !" 

132 



^ ^ <^ ^r 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. 



ON ONE occasion while serving in the hospi- 
tals in Georgia, it was at Marietta, and 
we had "Officer of the Day'' there, too, and 
it was my day on, and I had to sleep at the hospital, 
— on entering my ward one morning, — ^there had 
been an arrival of sick and wounded early that 
morning, and the wards were all filled up, — the 
most pathetic,- the most doleful, yet the most ludi- 
crous sight met my eyes. In the central tier of the 
bunks was a young boy seated on, or rather, sitting 
propped up in bed on one of the bunks, who had 
been shot through the mouth while in the act of 
hollerin' (began the Old Doctor on this visit to the 
Journal office). The ball had passed clear through 
both cheeks, cutting the dorsum or upper part of 
the tongue pretty bad. There he sat, bolt upright, 
his face swollen till his eyes looked ready to pop 
out; the skin drawn tight, the tongue swollen to 
tremendous size, and hanging out about three 
inches, with ropes of saliva drippin' off; his face 
framed in by a handkerchief passed under the chin 
and tied on top of his head. It gave him the most 
distressed and the most distressing, — the most 
aweful appearance imaginable. Well, sirs, — he had 
an old screechy fiddle to his shoulder and was just 
making "Arkansaw Traveler" howl. 

That's the spirit, Dan'els, that made the "Eebs" 
133 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

almost invincible. But^ excuse me, I should ad- 
dress such remarks to Hudson and Bennett and 
the boy; Dan'els knows. 

^ H: H< ^ 

Amongst the new arrivals of sick and wounded 
on another occasion, whom I found in my ward, 
was a small dark-skinned man, apparently twenty- 
eight or thirty years old, who couldn't speak a word 
of English. I never did find out what nationality 
he belonged to. He had fine white teeth^ coal-black 
hair, scant beard and small mustache, also very 
black. He had small sharp black eyes that 
twinkled. I think he was a S3Tian, or Egyptian, or 
belonged to some of those eastern tribes; and his 
eyes had the look, and he had the general aspect of 
a hunted animal. 

As I entered, he was lying on a bunk near the 
door, and he was watching the door narrowly, as if 
expecting something or somebody, with fear and 
dread. When I approached him and spoke to him, 
he made no answer, as he could neither understand 
nor speak United States, but his eyes showed some 
concern ; he appeared to be anxious to know what I 
was going to do, to or with him. I had no means of 
finding out what ailed him, as I was not up in 
Syrian nor Sanscript nor Egyptian, nor yet any 
other language except my own mother tongue; so, 
physical examination was my only recourse for 
making a diagnosis. By signs I made him under- 
stand that I wanted to look at his tongue. When 
134 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. 

that dawned upon him he poked out his tongue, 
readily, eagerly, it seemed to me, watching my 
every movement narrowly. But horrors I I 
could'nt get him to take his tongue in any more; 
he kept it out as long as I remained in the ward, 
following me with his eyes everywhere I went ; and 
not till some time after I had finished my visit and 
left the room, the nurse told me, did he venture to 
draw in his tongue. 

The next visit, as soon as I entered, — he was 
watching for me, — out went the tongue, and noth- 
ing could induce him to retract it as long as I was 
in sight. 

I sat on the edge of his bunk, and in my efforts 
to find out what was the matter with him, for I had 
as yet no clew except that he had a rise of tempera- 
ture, and I suspected typhoid fever, the most com- 
mon form of fever those times, — doctors will read- 
ily understand why I palpated his inguinal region, 
and I^m a talkin' to doctors now, — I stripped up 
his shirt over the abdomen, and placing my left 
hand over the suspected region I palpated, tapped 
the fingers with the other hand ; you all know, — to 
ascertain if there was tympanites there, or "dull- 
ness." 

Well, sirs; with tongue still protruding, — a look 

as dark as his own Egypt (his or somebody else's), 

came on his face, and he just hauled off and struck 

me just as hard as ever he could; resented it as an 

135 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

indignity, or an undue familiarity with his "in- 

^ards/^ 

* * * * 

Ah, the surgeons saw many things never dreamed 
of by other people. I could talk for hours on un- 
usual things, even in surgery, witnessed by them in 
times of war. 

I found in my ward one afternoon at my usual 
evening visit^ a young man sitting on the side of 
his bunk eating his supper of rice, beefsteak and 
tea (the tea made of sassafras, most likely, for 
"store" tea was not to be had). I asked him where 
he was wounded. He had just arrived on the train 
from the front with a large number of others ; they 
had all received their first dressings. He had a 
handkerchief tied under his jaws and over his head, 
covering the ears. With his finger he touched one 
ear then the other. 

I took the handkerchief off ; the bullet had gone 
in at one ear and come out at the other, literally. 
Of course nothing could be done for him. 

In an hour afterwards the nurse came for me; 
the young man was dying from internal hemor- 
rhage. 

* * * * 

A large shipment of wounded arrived at the Mar- 
ietta hospitals about noon one day- and were imme- 
diately distributed to the wards, and we went at 
once to work on them, of course. The first one 
I saw and went to on entering my ward was a young 
136 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. 

man from Swett's battery, who was shot through 
the right lung with a minnie ball. I knew him 
well. We had gone to school together in Vicks- 
burg when we were boys. His name was Walter 
Fountain. He was suffering great pain, and I 
placed a full dose of morphine on his tongue, and 
remarking, "You will be easy presently, Walter, ' 
proceeded to examine, wash and dress his wound. 
(You know we had no hypodermic syringes then; 
that was before their day.) 

"Yes, I'll be easy presently," he said. 

When I got through with him I had occasion to 
leave the room a few minutes, and hardly had the 
door closed behind me when I was startled by the 
report of a pistol. I hastened back; Fountain had 
blown his brains out. The poor fellow was "easy" 
now. I reprimanded the nurse for not taking away 
his arms on entering the ward, as was the rule. He 
said that he had concealed one pistol, giving up the 
other. He said : 

"I was standing at the table with my back to him, 
rolling a bandage. When you went out I heard 
him say: 

"'Farewell, father and mother,' and before I 
could look around, he had shot himself." 
137 



J^ M 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

ENCHANTED AND DISENCHANTED. 



AH^ — MY recollections of Chattanooga are 
ever fresh and green; they are delightful. 
In the springtime of life everything looks 
rosy; the prospect opens np before the vision most 
invitingly. The blood is Vv^arm, — the fancy free, — 
and, oh, what possibilities occur to one who, having 
health and strength, properly directs his energies ! 
To many of us, however, it is the story, in the end, 
of Dead Sea apples; ashes on the lips. We dont 
pan out always, remarked the Old Doctor, with a 
sigh. 

I had much leisure, and you bet I enjoyed it. 
Oh, the rides with the girls in the beautiful woods. 
The horseback trips to the summit of old Lookout 
Mountain, — the fish frys, the picnics. Of course, 
a good looking young officer, with handsome uni- 
form, and apparently plenty of money, — plenty of 
spare time, — a fondness for young ladies' society, 
and a liberal share of impudence, was necessarily 
popular. It seems to me now, to look back upon 
those days and scenes, that the girls were prettier 
than they are now. In their "homespun" dresses, 
and, often, home made hats, they were as pretty as 
pictures. It may be that 'tis distance (of time) 
that "lends enchantment to the view," but I know 
distance couldn't "robe" those girls in homespun 
dresses. 

138 . 



ENCHANTED AND DISENCHANTED. 

There was one, in particular, whose image dwells 
with me to this day. Her name was Vannie Vogle. 
She was "the daintiest little darling of them all." 
She had the brownest hair, the fairest skin, the 
reddest lips, the most laughing, love-lit eyes, the 
lithest figure, the smallest foot, the highest, most 
aristocratic instep, — the softest touch, — oh, she 
was just too sweet for anything in this world ex- 
cept to roll into strips of peppermint candy. An 
anchorite could not have been indifferent to the 
charm of her presence. It looked to me that on her 
lips and in her eyes there was a standing dare to 
kiss her; it was audible in every glance of her 
gazelle-like eyes, every gleam of her rosebud mouth, 
every smile; and it was as much as I could do to 
keep my hands off of her. 

One afternoon I called, and found her sitting 
alone on the little sofa in her parlor, the scene of 
many pleasant tete-a-tetes with her. 

I went in on her unexpectedly, — unannounced. 

She smiled sweetly, but said nothing, and did not 

rise. Her eyes twinkled mischievously, — she kept 

her lips closed, and to any remark or question she 

made not a spoken reply. I was puzzled. I said : 

"What's the matter with you, you little witch?" 

She smiled, but said not a word. I said : 

"I'll make you speak," — and with that I threw 

my arms around her; I could stand the dare no 

longer, — and tried to kiss her. 

She jumped up, and throwing me off, managed 
139 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

to evade me, — and running out on the little galler}^ 

or porch, spat out a mouthful of brown juice. 

Looking reproachfully at me, as she wiped her 

mouth on the back of her hand, she said : 

"You fool, — didn't you see I had snuff in my 

mouth?'' 

* * ♦ ♦ 

A FRIEND IN DURANCE VILE. 

The guard house was on the main street of the 
town. It was a two-story brick store which had 
been converted into a prison by putting bars 
across the windows. Yannie and I often rode 
by there. I had a lovely racking horse, the 
one I got at Munf ordsville ; 'member? and she 
had a thoroughbred of her own. (She was a thor- 
oughbred, you bet.) Back in my town where I had 
been raised, there was a particularly bad young 
fellow, almost a criminal, whom the young men 
would not associate with; he was a low down fel- 
low, but a company of his sort had been formed 
(conscripted, no doubt), and brought out of Jack- 
son. Of course, I knew the fellow and he knew me. 
His name was Dan Kerry. 

As Vannie and I rode down by the guard house 
one afternoon in gay spirits, I brave in my fine uni- 
form with oodles of gold lace on the sleeves, and 
my cap covered with ditto; stars on my collar, — 
oh, I was gay ! As we passed the guard house, old 
Dan Kerry, for it was he, looking through the bars, 
yelled : 

140 



ENCHANTED AND DISENCHANTED. 

"Hello, Dickey, where the hell did you get them 
good clothes T 

I felt like I could have crawled through a crack 
half inch wide; and Vannie, the little minx, said, 
with a sly look out of the corner of her pretty eyes : 

"Who's your friend, Doctor ?" 

A LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN SPRITE, 

But Vannie was not the only pretty girl there, 
by a jug full; there were lots of them, said the 
Doctor. Of course, the time I speak of was before 
I got married, you goose, said he indignantly, in 
reply to a question from Hudson. 

There was one we called "The Daughter of the 
Eagle's Nest,'' because she lived up on top of Look- 
out Mountain. She was a brilliant beauty, and the 
most dashing, fearless horsewoman I ever saw. I 
was riding up the mountain one afternoon, alone, 
and happening to look up overhead, — away out on 
the very brink of a precipice five hundred feet above 
me, there stood a magnificent horse, on whose back 
sat a lady with a scarlet jacket on, and her hair 
fallin' loosely down her back. It was she, "The 
Daughter of the Eagle's N'est." I thought it was 
the prettiest picture I ever saw ; the most romantic 
scene. She was the impersonation to my mind, of 
Scott's Di Vernon. 

141 

5r 5r 5^ 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER, 



A ROMANCE OF ARMY LIFE IN CHATTA- 
NOOGA. 

THE OLD DOCTOE entered the Journal office 
on this occasion looking unusualty radiant. 
I saw at once that he was "loaded" ; so, giv- 
ing him a good cigar, showing him courteously to 
his customary seat, while I, in default, occupied 
the nail keg, I proceeded to draw him out. 

^^Grot something on your mind that pleases you, I 
see, Doctor," said I. "Let's have it." 

After a few preliminary puffs of the Havana, the 
curling smoke of which he regarded with the eye 
of a connoisseur as it circled in blue rings above his 
head, he said: 

I reckon, Dan'els, my being detailed by General 
Bragg at Chattanooga to serve on a general court 
martial was an experience unique in the history of 
wars ; a surgeon, a non-combatant, serving as pros- 
ecuting attorney of a military court. Fortunately 
for me I had acquired considerable knowledge of 
the law, having begun its study before I studied 
medicine, and I was able to acquit myself With 
credit, so I was assured by the late Judge Jno. B. 
Sale of Aberdeen, Miss., and later of Memphis. 
Judge Sale was one of the great lawyers of the 
South in that day, and why he was not then made 
Judge Advocate instead of me, is one of the unfind- 
142 



THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. 

out-able things of the past. He was a captain of 
the line, having raised and brought out of Missis- 
sippi a splendid company of volunteers. He was 
at Chattanooga, convalescent from a wound, I 
think, at the time the court was organized. He was 
detailed as a member. Knowing his ability, and 
having a great admiration and friendship for him, 
of course I got points from him in making up my 
''briefs" or indictments, as the case may be. Later, 
Judge Sale was appointed and commissioned Judge 
Advocate-General on Bragg's staff. 

While serving on that court, of course I was re- 
lieved of all other duty, and it was a picnic. Court 
was called at 10 a. m., and usually adjourned at 2 
p. m. Why, I had more leisure than I could dispose 
of; couldn't give it away. I tried everything; fish- 
ing, frolicking, flirting. That's how I saw so much 
of Yannie and the other girls. 

But, boys, it was too funny to see a big, six-foot 
Tennesseean, a soldier, detailed as guard, and sta- 
tioned at the door of our court, salute me, as I en- 
tered of mornings, with a bundle of papers under 
my arm for appearances ; I, a smooth-faced chap of 
23, as unsoldierly a looking chap as one would ex- 
pect to see in a day's march. He would make a grab 
at me as I entered, intending it for a salute. The 
military salute of a soldier to a superior consists of 
raising the right hand rapidly to the visor of the 
cap,— palm outwards, fingers erect,— and lowering 
it to the side with a graceful sweep outward. This 
143 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

fellow had an idea of the salute, but he grabbed at 
me instead. He would raise his hand to about the 
chin, fingers half closed and pointing outward, and 
the manoeuvre looked more like he was trying to 
catch a fly "on the fly" than salute an officer. It 
was too funn}^, — especially as he would call me 
"Jedge." 

But, I set out to tell you about the clever quar- 
termaster. He was my room mate, and he was just 
the cleverest fellow that ever was. His name was 
Eiddle, Captain Eiddle ; and he was the post quar- 
termaster. He was universally called the "Clever 
Quartermaster," because he was so accommodating, 
— especially to the ladies. His home was in 'New 
Orleans, and he was engaged to be married, should 
he live to return, to a young lady of that city, and 
he did live, and did return and did marry her, and, 
as they say in the story books, they "lived happily 
forever afterwards." He was fidelity itself. He 
was very fond of ladies' society, and while he 
couldn't help flirting a little, for the same reason 
that the Irishman struck his daddy, — because "it 
was such an illigant opportunity," he was true to 
his love. He carried her picture "over his heart," 
he said, but I saw him take it out of his coat tail 
pocket, and couldn't help reflectin' that if one's 
heart can only "be aisy if it's in the right place," 
he must have had a troublesome time, if there was 
where he carried his heart. I used to catch him 
looking at the picture, often. He was about twenty- 
144 



THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. 

five years old, but everybody called him "Old Kid- 
die/' — I dont know why. I can see him now, — his 
laughing face covered with a full, auburn beard, 
and his laughing blue eyes twinkling with merri- 
ment. One reason I liked him was because he 
would laugh at all my jokes; he'd laugh at any- 
thing. A man who will do that for a feller gets 
mighty close to his affections, dont he, Dan'els? 
Eiddle was a number-one business man, as well as 
a most genial and delightful companion ; still there 
was something about him suggestive of a pet cub 
bear. I was devoted to him. We roomed together, 
as I said^ and my chief delight was to "rig" him; 
tell jokes on him of which he was innocent. If I 
made any faux pas, or got into any scrapes, — which 
I often did, I'd make a "scapegoat" of Eiddle, and 
tell it as having happened to him and not me ; see ? 
Oh, he was an ideal room mate. In fact I was a 
young rascal. I kept his secret for him, but got out 
a report on him that he had addressed the young 
lady referred to in another place as the "Daughter 
of the Eagle's Nest," and that she had kicked him. 
I told one of the girls that I had a good joke on 
the captain, and promised to make a romance out 
of it for her, — for, — dont laugh, Dan'els, you nor 
Hudson; I know Bennett wont, for he's in love 
now, and all such matters are, with him, sorter 
"holy" you know, — I used in the sappy days of my 
adolescence, the "fuzzy" days of my green youth, — 
to-to attempt poetry! Fact! 
145 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REB^L SURGEON. 

Well, Eiddle had a clerk named Bingham, who, 
somehow got the nick name of "Bingingham," and 
another clerk, a spoony, wormy looking little fel- 
low, named Dent, who worked in the quartermas- 
ter's department. Dent affected the flnte, and was 
sentimental as well as wormy, or because he ivas 
wormy, I dont know which, and I suppose it dont 
make any difference. 

I wrote out a rig-a-marole in doggerel about Eid- 
dle and his imaginary love affair, and sent it to 
Miss Maggie Magee, who used to love to tease old 
Eiddle (I think, now, she was trying to catch him, 
herself ; oh, Bennett, the ways of girls are past find- 
ing out; you might as well surrender). 

On her way to church. Miss Maggie, who had it 
in her bosom, and intended to show it to the other 
girls (in the choir), dropped the manuscript on the 
street. It was picked up, and somehow it got into 
the papers. 

Well, sirs, — I like to have gotten a duel on hand ; 
not with Eiddle, oh, no ; he liJced it ; he thought it 
was just too good for anything, and had Dent busy 
a month making copies of it, — but with the young 
lady's father, bless you, — and I had to do some tall 
lieing to keep him from just frazzling me into 
small pieces ; he threatened to "wear me out." 

It created no end of fun. One paper after an- 
other published it, till finally it got into the North- 
ern illustrated papers, and I saw a copy of it with 
the funniest little pictures imaginable, and an edi- 
146 



THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. 

torial about it. It was given in a sort of derision 
as an illustration of the efforts of "Secesli poets." 
Here is the plaguey thing now. You can have 
it if you want it. My wife came across it the other 
day, along with my "oath of allegiance to the Uni- 
ted States/' some assignments to duty, — Provost 
Marshal's permits to walk about, etc., — I had clip- 
ped it from the Chattanooga Telegraph, then edited 
by Henry Watterson; he hadn't gotten to be '^a 
bigger man that Grant" then. My wife thinks it 
is real smart. Here it is ; read it, Dan'els." 

THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER, OR THE FATE OF 
THE FLIRT. 

Chattanooga, Tenn., May 12, 1863. 
Miss Maggie : 

Let me tell you a good story 
On my room mate, Captain Eiddle; 
Captain Eiddle, — Quartermaster 
Of the Post of Chattanooga; 
Eiddle, with the auburn tresses 
All combed back so slick and shiney; 
Eiddle, with the whiskers auburn, — 
(He says auburn ; I say sunburn [t] ) . 
Tell you of his many virtues. 
Tell you of his winning ways ; 
Of how he came, and how he tarried, — 
How he courted, — would have married 
Chattanooga's fairest daughter. 
But she thought he "hadn't ought to" 
147 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"Shake'' the girl he '^eft behind him." 
Now, how she knew that he was "mortgaged"; 
How she knew that he was joking, — 
When he told her of his feelings, — 
Feelings of a tender passion, 
Which, he told her, she had Vakened, — 

'Wakened by her smiling eyes, 
I know not ; nor do I reckon 
Anybody else can tell. 
It's not the province of us poets 
To sing of things unless we know it 
All "by heart." 

But who he is, and where he came from; 
How he came, and what he did; 
Wken he did it, and how he did it, — 
What he said, and how he said it, — 
Be my theme, and you will know it 
Like a book, when you have read it. 
* * * * 

In a far-off creole city, — 
In the land of milk and honey ; 
Land of beauty rich and rare, — 
Beauty that's not bought by money ; 
(That just fits, and it's so funny 
That I'm bound to put it in) ; 
Where the sun forever shines, — 
(On this far-off creole city) ; 
Shines so stead}^, — shines so hot it 
Melts a fellow (what a pity 
That the yankees ever got it) ; 
148 



THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. 

In this far-off Southland city, 

Where the cactus rears its head ; 

Where the groves of orange blossom; 

Where the gentle South winds speak 

Nought but love. 

Where the magnolia's lily cheek, — 

Fairer than the fairest maiden's. 

Is kissed by the gentle evening zephyrs ; 

In this land, and in this city — 

In Union street and near the city 

Livery stables, — stables that do smell offensive. 

There lived a youth, — not sad or pensive. 

But a gay and festive cuss ; — 

Gayer than Old Will-the-weaver, 

Gayer than a gay deceiver, — 

Gayer than a peacock gaudy, — 

Gayer than a speckled puppy 

With a ribbon 'round his neck. 

This the youth and this the hero 
Of the many deeds I sing ; 
Hero of this song sublime; 
Hero of my first attempt, — 
In writing which I spend my time, — 
Time more precious than is money; 
Time more precious than are shin- 
Plasters of the bank of Chatta- 
Nooga, — or the many-colored plasters 
Which are now so very plenty. 

This the youth and this the hero ; 
149 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

This the Clever Quartermaster ; 
This the favored of the ladies, — ■ 
This the favored of the press. 
Girls, to gain his good opinion 
All consult him as to dress, — 
As to every little matter, — 
Whether picnic, dance, or soiree, — 
Buggy ride or small tea party; 
Whether fancy dances dizzy. 
With some fellow slightly^ boozy 
Are a la mode. 
If Eiddle shakes his head, — 
Big old head with whiskers shaggy, 
The fiat's made, and all the Misses 
Lift their hands in holy horror, 
And exclaim, "Oh, shocking taste 
To have an arm around one's waist." 

He Hs * ♦ 

Shall I tell you how he met her? 
Where he met her ? What he said ? 
Met Chattanooga's fairest daughter, — 
Daughter with the flowing tresses ? 
With a laugh like gushing waters. 
Making music in the air? 
With the eyes so soft and tender. 
Full of love and soft emotion? 
Eyes, beneath whose silken lashes 
Soft and warm the love light dwells ; 
And whose lips are so bewitching 
That a fellow's fairly itching 
"^ 150 



THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. 

To kiss from their cherry softness 
The fragrant nectar nestling there ? 
Tell you all about the nonsense 
He had whispered in her ear, — 
Ear forever lent to listen 
To the siren song of love ? 

Yes ; but all you girls have had experience 

In this pleasant sort of thing, — 

And all of this you'll take for granted ; 

They were pretty well acquainted; 

Had met at evening's twilight hour, — 

Had met beneath the vine-clad bower, — 

Bower through whose vine-clad lattice 

Fell soft Luna's silv'ry rays. 

Had met at church, — at choir, — at tea ; 

Had met at tea at some kind neighbors ; 

Had met and mingled at their neighbors. 

'Twas in Tennessee, 

In Chattanooga, 

At Mrs. Blankse's 

In the parlor — 

Behind the door, — 

In a chair. 
There he met this lovely maiden, — 
Lovlier far than the most radiant 
Dream of love that ever flitted 
With a form^ oh, light and airy, — 
Flitted like a winsome fairy 
Thro' the poet's burning brain. 
151 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

I cannot now put in rhyme 
All that was said on that occasion. 
The fact is, — I havn't time, — 
Even to tell how the dancers 
Mingled in the mazy dances ; 
How they danced and how they chatted, 
How the music's 'livening strain 
Thrilled the dancers as they chatted, — 
Chatted as they moved along ; 
Chatted like some young canaries, — 
Chattered like a lot of squirrels ; 
Chatted like the very dickens. 
'Not to tell of how Mechelle, — 
'Me-shelle/' — "Uncle Joseph's nephew" 
Put on the fancy licks and "did 
The thing up brown." 
How this beau with eyes so tender, — 
How this beau with form so slender, 
Swayed his figure to and fro ; 
How this heaviest ^Tieavy coon dog" 
Turned the ladies in the quadrille, — 
Turned the ladies on the corners, — 
Turned them while they gaily chatted, — 
Chatted as they moved along ; 
While old Adam played and patted 
On the floor with even measure, — 
Measure keeping to his song. 

In the dance they met each other; 
152 



THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. 

Met, — and turned, — and moved along ; 
Moved through dance without emotion. 
« * * * 

Now the dance was done and over ; 
All the guests had now departed, — 
Departed, sleepy, to their homes. 

But, alone, this happy couple 
Arm in arm moved gently 'long : 
Moved gently 'long the long piazza ; 
Moved along in the silv'ry moonlight, — 
Moonlight falling gently o'er them,— 
Falling o'er them like a dream. 

Thus they walked, with hands entwining; 
Thus she walked with head inclining, — 
With her tresses gently resting, — 
Eesting on his manly breast. 
Thus he woo'd her, — didn't win her, 
Woo'd her with this siren song : 

"Chattanooga's fairest daughter,— 
'Daughter of the Eagle's Nest'; 
Daughter of the fertile valleys ; 
Daughter of the laughing waters ; 
This fond heart for thee is pining, — 
This fond heart is yearning for thee,— 
Yearning for thee as its mate. 
Thy loved image in it dwelling 
Kules supreme in every thought, — 
The mistress of each kind emotion, — 
153 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Mistress of eacli rising joy, — 

Mistress of each aspiration. 

In my room so sad and dreary, — 

In my room so bleak and drear, — 

Sit I, lonely^ making abstracts, — 

Abstracts of my daily ^issues/ 

There my sweetness daily wasting, — 

Wasting on the desert air. 

Come with me to my own country ; 

Come with me and be my mate. 

There old ^Bingingham' shall please thee 

With his songs of glories past. 

Songs of how he always nsed 

To "do" the vendors of produce. 

Produce offered in our markets. 

In our far-off Southland city. 

There old Dent, — the funny fellow, 

Grood old Dent, — the story teller, 

(Tells them better when he's ^mellow'). 

Shall regale thy leisure moments 

With sweet music's softest strain. 

There with (f )lute so sad and plaintive, — 

Plaintive as the cooing dove. 

Shall woo thee for me, — sing to thee, 

And tell thee of my speechless love." 
* * * * 

Then this maid so meek and modest. 
Gently turned her head away; 
Turned her soft eyes from his face ; 
Turned her fairy form around; 
154 .. 



THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. 

Turned her back upon old Kiddle. 
Raised she then her fairy hand, — 
Raised her hand with tiny ^kerchief, — 
Raised it to her ruby lips, — 
Raised it to her eyes so meek, — 
Gentle eyes, suffused with tears ; 
Ope'd her lips, — and after sneezing, 
Thus replied : 

"Go away, you gay deceiver, 
Gayer than is speckled puppy; 
Go away you heartless wretch ! 
Leave the maiden whose affections 
You have won, to die alone. 
Your soft words have waked the passion 
Slumb'ring in her maiden breast, — 
The infant passion struggling there. 
Chattanooga^s lonely daughter 
Will not go to your distant country. 
Will not believe a word you've told her ; 
(Let her 'pine'). 
You've got a girl in Louisiana.'' 
* * 'i^ ♦ 

Old Riddle shook his shaggy head, 
And scratched it, too; was sore perplexed 
To know by what means she discovered 
His faith and love already plighted 
To "the girl he left behind him." 

He tarried not, — but straight he left her ; 
Left her to her thoughts alone; — 
155 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Left her, without another word, 
And straight way home he toddled; 
Saying, as he moved along, — 
Moved along v.dth pace unsteady: 
'I wonder who the thunder told her? 
It must have been that frisky doctor." 

j» ^ 

Hf *lf ¥f 

» » 

LOVFS STRATAGEM. 



THE DOCTOR PUTS UP A JOB ON THE MAJOR. 

1 ALWAYS had a mighty sharp eye for pretty 
girls, said the Old Doctor, as he seated himself 
in our office chair. If there was one in the 
neighborhood, I'd find her. A regular "butterfly- 
lover,'' I flitted from flower to flower, always deep- 
est in love with the last girl I met. 

There was one in the neighborhood when we were 
camped near Chattanooga, some two weeks before 
Bragg invaded Kentucky. I found her, of course, 
and "had it pretty bad." She lived down the valley 
some three miles below our camp. Her name was 
Mary Coffey. Her father was a rich, pompous old 
fellow named "General" Coffey. Why "General," 
I dont knovr; militia general once, I reckon, away 
back in the forties. In the South in those days, 
156 



LOVE S STRATAGEM. 

everybody who was anybody in particular had a 
military title, and the titles were graded according 
to one's importance in his vicinity, and ranged all 
the way from "Cap/' bestowed on the postmaster 
and the city marshal, through "Major," the title 
of the editor, "Colonel," the title of the town lawyer 
and politician, to "General" for the fat, old rich 
fellows. Hence "General" Coffey, I suppose. He 
had the gout; — one foot all swelled up and band- 
aged, and he hobbled about, when he hobbled at 
all, on a stick and a crutch. He was a typical' old- 
school gentleman of the South, hospitable, fond of 
company, a great talker and a great reader; had 
nothing else to do but talk and read, when he could 
get anybody to sit still and listen to him. His 
"overseer" attended to business, — the general was 
a planter, — and the general staid indoors mostly, 
taking his toddy, smoking his pipe and reading. 
He was a widower, and lived alone with his one 
child, this pretty daughter. Well^ I became very 
fond of Miss Mary, and went to see her every night ; 
but, confound it, the old general would hobble in 
the parlor and anchor himself and stay till I left. 
He had a yarn about some seven or eight foolish 
virgins who didn't keep their lamps trimmed, and 
got out of oil on a critical occasion (see the Bible). 
He drew an analogy between these negligent vir- 
gins and the Confederate government^ applying it 
in some way, that I never did understand, altho' 
he told it to me every evening for a week. It took 
157 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

him about an hour to tell it, and he would tell it 
with as much gusto and relish as if it were the first 
time. So, Mary and I could do nothing but grin 
and bear it, casting loving looks at each other when- 
ever the old man would stoop over to spit ; or "play 
hands" on the sly. That would never do in this 
world. I'd get out of practice making shonuff love, 
and I was just dying to get Mary by herself. Love 
laughs at locks, they say. I set to work a scheme, 
.and finally put up a job on the major. The major 
was a fat fellow named Eobison, a bachelor, about 
forty years old. He was an aide, or something, on 
the general's staff; our general, not General Coffey. 
He was as vain as a peacock, a regular "masher,' 
and prided himself on his (to him) good looks and 
his "conversational powers." Next day I said: 

"Major, dont you want to call on a pretty young 
lady tonight?" 

"Yes," said the major, as he glanced at himself 
in the little pewter-rimmed mirror hanging on the 
tent pole, and stroking his mustache lovingly, "who 
is she?" 

"It's Miss Cofiey, only daughter of General 
€offey, a rich old Southern planter down the valley 
a little way. He's a fine old gentleman, a fine 
scholar, a great reader, and you will enjoy his 
society, I am sure, as only one of your literary 
attainments can," said I. 

The major swelled with pride, and took another 
side glance at himself. "All right," said he ; "we'll 
158 



love's stratagem. 

go to night. The nights are lovely now; moon 
about full^ and if there is anything I do love it is 
to talk to a pretty girl by moonlight." 

I didnH say anything to this sentiment, tho' I 
could have said with Piatt, "me, too," and added, 
— "yes, I see you at it now ; something I have been 
trying to do for a week, but the general — ." In- 
stead, I said: 

"Major, I ought to warn you now, that the 
general will talk you to death if you let him." 

The major drew himself up proudly, and with 
a scornful look and a most conceited smirk, said: 

"You forget, my son, that I'm a lady's man, and 
something of a talker, myself.' 

"All right," said I. 

So, we went, that very night. The major got 
himself up in his best shape, dress parade uniform, 
epaulets, plumed hat and all; coat buttoned up to 
the chin, which must have been very uncomforta- 
ble, as it was yet September and pretty hot. He was 
so fat the buttons were on the strain, and he looked 
like a stuffed frog. I wore a "fatigue" coat, — loose 
and easy-like. The major had a horse he called 
"Flop." I rode my little bay. 

Entering the parlor on invitation of a servant, 
we found the general and Miss Mary both there. 

"General Coffey, — this is my distinguished 
friend, the gallant Major Eobison, of the general's 
staff; Miss Coffey, Major Eobison." 

After a cordial welcome, the general and the 
159 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A BEBEL SURGEON. 

major were soon engaged in an animated running 
talk^ the major getting in his licks with commend- 
able and encouraging skilly and he was in fine 
spirits. I gave Miss Mary my arm, and excusing 
ourselves, we went out on the long front gallery in 
the moonlight. We staid out till eleven. Oh, it 
was a lovely night, indeed; full moon, cloudless 
sky, clear Southern atmosphere, and so still I could 
hear myself think what a good joke I was having 
on the major. The lovely valley, of which the gal- 
lery commanded a fine view, lay peacefully spread 
out before us, and there was nothing to suggest 
that "grim visaged war" was snoring all along the 
banks of the Tennessee, in about two miles of us, 
and that tomorrow we should see him shake himself 
and put on the Byronic "magnificently stern array.'' 
In fact, the stillness was unbroken, except by the 
barking of a little dog away over yonder, who, hear- 
ing the echo of his voice, would bark at it, and thus 
keep up the endless chain all night, I reckon. But 
I wasn't thinking of the night, nor the army, nor 
war, nor the valley, nor the little dog, just then. 
I was in better business. Yum, yum. Ever been 
there, Dan'els? 

Byme-by Mary said: 

"I reckon we'd better go in and see how father 
and the major are making it. It wont look right 
if we stay out all evening." 

So, we went in. As we entered the light of the 
hall, she dexterously flipped off a little face powder, 
160 



love's stratagem. 

which had somehow gotten on the left breast of my 
coat^ and picked off a long yellow hair, which some- 
how had gotten tangled on a button. We entered 
the parlor. The general had gotten the bulge on 
him and was doing all the talking, long since. The 
major, whose face was red, eyes ditto, jumped up 
quick, and swallowing a yawn, said : 

"Well, doctor, it's about time we were going''; 
and was about to be off. 

Miss Mary said : "Oh, it's early yet, and such a 
lovely night." (I could have hugged her, then and 
there, or anywhere else). I took out my watch. It 
was eleven o'clock. I didn't announce the fact, 
however, but said : 

"Major, has the general told you his beautiful 
allegory of the seven virgins, yet ?" 

"N'o,'' said the old general, quickly; "I'm glad 
you reminded me of it. Sit down, major, and let 
me tell it to you." 

And the major had to sit down, but he did it 
with a bad grace, and with a glance at me as dark 
as Erebus. 

I again gave Miss Mary my arm, and asking 
them to excuse us, as we had had the pleasure of 
hearing it, Ave went out on the gallery again, and 
had another picnic. (More face powder and yellow 
hairs to brush off; yum, yum.) 

I said it took the general an hour to tell the yarn. 
I knew just how to time our stay on the gallery, 
and made hay, figuratively, while the (moon) sun 
161 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

shone. Presently a rooster away over yonder waked 
up and gave the midnight signal. Another took 
it up and passed it down the line our way, till the 
generals chickens caught it, and repeated it about 
a thousand times, seemed to me ; crowing for mid- 
night. We went in. The general was nearing the 
climax, and was as wide awake as a mink. But the 
major. My stars ! He was mad ; mad as a wet hen. 
He was so mad he looked, as big as he was, to be 
actually swelled. His eyes were red ; he was sleepy, 
shonuff, and couldn't swallow the yawns, but had 
to let them come out. He jumped up, cutting off 
the general about at "lastly,'' and was hardly civil 
in leave taking, notwithstanding the old gentle- 
man's courteous invitation to call again, which was 
repeated so sweetly by Mary. He bolted out of the 
door and made for "Flop," muttering between his 
clenched teeth : "Yes, Til call again." He was so 
mad he blowed like a porpoise ; he even snorted. I 
didn't say a word; dasn't. Neither did he. We 
mounted in silence and rode away, I keeping just a 
little behind the major, and as mum as an oyster. 
We rode out of the lavm, — rode across the peaceful 
valley, up the slope of a hill, from the summit of 
which could be had a fine view of the old colonial 
manor house of the general's we had just left. 
Arrived at the summit the major turned his horse 
around, reined in ; "Whoa, Flop," he said, and then, 
slowly and deliberately and for about a minit, shook 
162 



WHAT PUZZLED THE DOCTOR. 

his fist in the direction of the house, and said, with 
great deliberation: 

"General Coffey; G — d d — n you and your 

seven virgins and their oil !" 

I fell off my horse and just rolled on the ground 
and hollered. I didn't go near the major for a 
week, and when I did he threw a rock at me. 



sT 



WHAT PUZZLED THE DOCTOR. 



DAN'ELS, said the genial old gentleman, the 
next time he favored the Journal office 
with a visit, continuing his remarks anent 
"commutation," touched upon in a former recital; 
Dan'els, speaking of commutation for quarters, 
fuel, rations, horse feed, etc., durin' the war, I know 
you fellers dent understand what it was. I'll ex- 
plain it to you, as well as I can, for there is one 
thing connected with it that I cant get thro' my 
head, and never did : 

A colonel (of whatever arm or staff), is, when on 
post duty, entitled, in addition to his pay, to be 
furnished with four rooms or tents for "quarters" ; 
— feed for four horses, and four cords of wood a 
month. A major to three, and a captain to two of 
163 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

each item mentioned ; while a lieutenant is entitled 
to only one room, feed for one horse and one cord of 
wood a month. Or, if they prefer, they could pro- 
cure these things on their own hook, and the gov- 
ernment would allow them pay in lieu of furnish- 
ing them. Most all of the officers preferred to draw 
the pay and provide for themselves; there was 
money in it. 

iNTow, I never could understand the discrimina- 
tion. It surely doesn't take any more room for a 
colonel to sleep in than it does for a captain, and 
no more wood to keep a major warm than it does 
a lieutenant. There was I, a "Major," entitled to 
my three cords of wood, and old Doctor Barker, as 
big as two of me, but only a "Captain" and assist- 
ant surgeon, — lie had to keep warm as best he could 
on two measley little cords of wood. See ? It aint 
fair. And bless your soul, he had to sleep in two 
rooms, while little J could spread myself around 
loose all over three rooms and warm myself by three 
fires at once. 

And the Philosopher shook with merriment at 
his alleged wit. 

164 






THE STORY OF A STUMP. 



THE STORY OF A STUMP. 



WHEN the Old Doctor was last in Austin 
and honored the Journal office with a 
visit, I said to him : 
"Doctor, did you ever notice that old crippled 
Confederate soldier sitting on the steps at the cap- 
itoir 

Yes, said he,— I know him well. I amputated 
his leg at Atlanta. 

It is a very common thing these days, and has 
heen for many years, to see a stump, continued the 
Doctor, to see some ex-Confederate stumping his 
weary way through life on crutches or a wooden 
leg; so common that it does not challenge a re- 
mark, or hardly a notice; we do not give it a 
thought. 

But, oh, how eloquent is that stump, or that 
empty sleeve ! What a tale it could tell,— if any- 
body had time to listen to it. See that old fellow, 
now, pegging along there on his wooden stump, 
too poor to buy even an artificial limb. Old, gray 
and grizzled. Time was, when he was young. Time 
was, when he, too, was fired with patriotism,— shall 
we say?— or misdirected zeal?— to take up arms 
against his flag, and thought it was a religious duty. 
Time was, when the hot blood of youth coursed 
through his veins, and he throbbed with the exhila- 
ration of love, and hope, and ambition, perhaps; 
165 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



when the light of love shone in his eyes, as he 
pressed Mary to his bosom; when, knapsack on 
back, and gun in hand, he hurried from home to 
join the boys going to the front; — or stole a kiss, 
perhaps, from timid, trusting little Lucy, — a meek- 




"Hurried to join tli& hoyg at the front.''' 

eyed maiden who already saw in her soldier lover 
a hero, and to whom he had pledged his undying 
faith. 

Time was, when, with recollections of Mary, or 

Lucy, — perhaps with the fragrance of that last kiss 

lingering still in his memory, he joined the terrible 

charge, to "seek the bubble reputation at the can- 

166 



THE STORY OF A STUMP. 



non's mouth/' — to prove himself worthy of her; 
and like "Brunswick's fated chieftain, foremost 
fighting, fell." 




P-'^J^fAii^ 



'Foremost fighting fell.' 



Time was, when, fainting from the loss of blood, 

he was carried to the field hospital, where the first 

dressing was put on his wounds, and the blood 

stanched ; when, delirious with fever and pain, later, 

167 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



at the general hospital, the bearded and the beard- 
less surgeons consult, and decide that the loss of a 
leg is necessary to save life; when consciousness is 
restored, and the alternative is told him, — quick 
as a flash he sees the long years ahead, when, lame 
and old, and perhaps friendless, he shall drag out 




''Carried bleeding to the rear." 



a miserable old age in some "Home" or asylum; 
or die of hunger and neglect on the roadside. But 
he loves life ; he clings to delusive hope. "Cut her 
off. Doctor," he says, stoutly, but with a suppressed 
sigh. 

The fumes of chloroform are suggested to me by 
168 



THE STORY OF A STUMP. 



every stump. I see a strong man stretched prone 
on the table. I see the aproned surgeons, — stern 
of visage, — kind and gentle of heart; I see the 
gleam of a long knife; I see the warm life blood 
spurt out as it cleaves the quivering white flesh. I 
hear the grating of the saw as it cuts its way thro' 




''Cut 'er off, doctor." 

the bleeding bone. I see the ghastly wound, gap- 
ing, gory; its flabby flaps weeping crimson tears. 
The thirsty sponge drinks them eagerly; they are 
quickly dried, closed, stitched; and a roller ban- 
dage is turned around the stump. The form is 
transferred to a cool cot beneath the shade of a 
169 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

wide-spreading oak, and a nurse sits by to fan him 
and keep o2 the flies. 

He rallies from the sleep of the merciful anes- 
thetic. He slept all through the ordeal. A minute 
seems not to have elapsed since the first whiff of the 
chloroform; he felt nothing, knew nothing. He 
wakes to find his leg gone. He brushes away a tear, 
and a big lump comes in his throat, as he thinks 
of Mary, in the little house on the hill ; or of Lucy, 
may be, — if it be she, — the meek-eyed maiden to 
whom he is promised ; who sees in the army but one 
figure, — in the list of wounded but one name, and 
it is burned into her very soul as she reads opposite 
that name in the paper, "desperately wounded." 

Then, the long, long days of fever and pus ; for 
in those days, you know, Dan'els, we knew nothing 
of "germs" and "antiseptics," nor how to prevent 
suppuration; we believed it necessary to healing. 
Oh, the suffering, — the days of agony, and the 
nights of torture, as the wound became dry and hot, 
and the temperature 'rose. 

By-and-bye, he is convalescent. He can sit up on 
the side of his bunk and scrawl a repetition of his 
oft-told tale of love to her at home; but hope is 
dead in him. He is of no use in the army now ; he 
is discharged ; turned loose on a cold world, maimed 
and broken in health and spirit, to shift for himself 
as best he can. 

He survives the war. He is buffetted about, here 
and there, living, God knows how, as best he can. 
170 



THE STOKY OF A STUMP. 



Now he sells lead pencils on the granite steps of 
the Texas capitol. 

"Buy a pencil. Doctor ?" 




''Poor old Confed! Despised old Rebel!" 

"Yes, my boy, — a dozen of them. Here, give me 
two dozen; I'm clean out of pencils at home/' I 
say (a pardonable lie, God knows). Neglected, — 
171 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

despised, — alone. Had he been on the other side, 
where his brother was, he would now be drawing a 
pension from the government. Poor old Confed. 
Despised old "rebel." They told jon a wound would 
be an honor, — and you a hero. Cruel mockery. Bit- 
ter deception. Your life blood shed, your youth 
wasted; all in vain. The "Lost Cause" is a mem- 
ory. So is Lucy. She married the butcher, who 
staid at home and got rich. 

Now you are waiting, — only waiting — the time 
when you may join your comrades in arms and mis- 
fortune, on the other side. You see already the 
^^bivouac on the shores of eternity"; you hear the 
ripple of the waves as they dash upon its banks. 
You hear the bugle call to arms no more ; you hear 
the "tattoo" and "lights out," — and long for the 
time when your tired old bones may 

'^' softly lie and sweetly sleep. 



Low in the ground ; when 

The soul, — God's glorious image, freed from clay. 
In heaven's eternal spheres shall shine, 
A star of day." 

172 



*r ^ 



OLD SISTER NICK. 



OLD SISTER NICK. 



PIES AND PIETY. 

WHEN" I was stationed at Lauderdale 
Springs, Miss., in the extreme eastern 
part of the State, in the piney woods 
region, where I had charge of a ward in one of the 
general hospitals, said our Genial Visitor on an- 
other occasion, there was, amongst the refugees, 
quite a number of whom had flocked there out of 
the way of the yankees after Vicksburg fell, the 
most comical old lady you ever saw. She was gen- 
erally called, by everybody, "Sister Nick," or "Old 
Sister Nick." She was "a lone widder woman/^ 
she used to say, and she had several slaves. 

Her piety was something awful. It was simply 
overwhelming. She had a son, an only child, whom 
she affectionately called "my little Jimmie," who 
having been slightly wounded once, by pure acci- 
dent, no doubt, for he was not of the kind to go 
where people get hurt, — "not if I can help it," he 
used to say, — was now on detail service, doing hos- 
pital guard duty. Jimmie was a great big six- 
footer, strong as an ox, — and had great shocks of 
fiery red hair, heavy eyebrows, — white eyelashes^ 
and, keeping his mouth open constantly, he had a 
startled, idiotic appearance; looked more like an 
astonished hog than anything I can think of. He 
173 



HECOLLECTIONS OF A KEBEL SURGEON. 



had freckles on his face the size of a dime, and 
oTeat warts on his hands that rattled like castinets. 




"The Lord will purvide.' 
Sister Nick, the pious. 



"Oh, Doctor, dont make fun of your friend that 
way," I said. 

It's a fact, said the Old Doctor, and he shook 
174 



OLD SISTER NICK. 



with good natured mirth at the recollection. 

But Jimmie was "a good boy," as his mother 
often declared. 

"The Lord will purvide/' she used to say, as she 




Ellen, the pieist. 

sat knitting socks for Jimmie, — she was eternally 
knitting, — and I reckon Jimmie had as many socks 
as Bud Zuntz had undershirts, and like Bud's 
shirts, they were, as Euth McEnery Steward says 
of them, "all Ma-knit." "Ef He will only spare me 
17'> 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

my little Jimmie, I will always bless and sarve 
Him/^ 

Jimmie and I used to go fishing together; good 
fishing about Lauderdale ; tell you a good one about 
it some day, if you will remind me. 

Sister Nick was a little pudgy old lady with 
small gray watery eyes, a little dab of a nose that 
looked like it had been stuck on after she was built, 
as an after thought ; thin brown hair, turning gray, 
parted in the middle, and wound into a little dab 
at the back of her head not bigger than a hickory 
nut ; a watery mouth suggestive of a kind of a juici- 
ness not very appetizing to look at, especially so 
because of its being always the amber hue of snuff, 
which she was never without. She wore a faded 
calico wrapper, — apparently an orphan, — the only 
skirt she had on, — looked so, anyhow, — run-down 
slippers, — and she had the general appearance of 
a bolster with a string tied around it in the middle. 

"Talking of good eatin'. Sister Partrick," she 
said one day to Mrs. Patrick, my good mother-in- 
law, — heaven rest her, — she always pronounced it 
"Partrick,"— "talkin' of good eatin'. Sister Part- 
rick, jest set me down all by myself to a good biled 
hen, and I'm satisfied." 

Ellen, her colored slave, was her mainstay and 
support. She was a famous "pieist," if not so 
famous for piety, — for Ellen would cuss some- 
times, — and I dont blame her. Ellen made and 
sold pies to the sick soldiers, — and they had a per- 
176 



OLD SISTER NICK. 

feet mania for pies. We forbade the sale of them 
at the hospitals; they, — her kind, being the most 
diarrhoea-provoking things imaginable; but the 
men would have them, and would get them, all the 
same. Eain or shine, — frost, snow or blizzard, 
Ellen had to be at every train that came in, early 
or late, to sell pies to the soldiers. "The Lord will 
purvide," Sister Nick would say. "As long as my 
little Jimmie is spared to me, and Ellen holds out 
to make pies for the poor sick soldiers, I hope we 
wont starve. Sister Partrick," and she would spit 
out about a pint of snuff juice. 

"I puts my trust in Him, Sister Partrick,'' she 
said often. She was so pious she would cry; her 
little watery eyes, — always watery, would slop over 
every time she mentioned the Lord's name; and 
she was so famous for the quantity and quality of 
her piety and for Ellen's dyspeptic pies, that the 
boys used to say she had Ellen to sell pies at the 
morning trains to encourage "early piety." 

"Oh, pshaw. Doctor, — that's the very worst pun 
I ever did hear in my life. I do believe you made 
up that whole yarn to get off that outrageous pun; 
go ahead with your story," said I. And Hudson 
and Bennett did not crack a smile. 

Humph, said the Doctor; it's finished. You 
dont know a good thing when you hear it, — and he 
gave me and B. and H. a look of ineffable disgust. 
177 

^ ff ff 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN 
BLOOM. 



A FISH STORY WITH TRIMMINGS. 

LAUDEEDALE was a big hospital post, there 
being four large hospitals there, built out 
on the lovely pine-clad hills, and built of 
rough pine lumber. There were assembled there 
quite a lot of congenial doctors and others, and of 
evenings, around the stove in the office of some one 
of the hospitals they would assemble more or less, 
and talk. 

The druggist at the hospital where I was on duty 
was named Armstead. By his accounts he was a 
tremendous fisherman. Oh, the trout he had 
caught, — and the tales he could tell of wonderful 
exploits with rod and fly, — to say nothing of "wur- 
rums," as he called them. Well, all winter he was 
talking of going fishing as soon as the dogwood 
trees put out; "a sure sign," he would say, that 
"the fish are biting." There was a pretty consid- 
erable-size creek running through these hills near 
the hospitals, — and in the swamps or bottoms, as 
they were called, were myriads of squirrels, wild 
ducks, Opossums, ^coons, pigeons and even wild tur- 
keys; and further off, deer. Fine sport I used to 
have with the gun. Some other time I will tell you 
of our make-shift for ammunition, if you will re- 
mind me. You must recollect that every Southern 
178 



WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. 

port being blockaded, trade and commerce with the 
outside world was cut off, and manufactured goods 
of every kind soon played out throughout the 
South. We were thrown on our own resources. The 
native cotton was spun and woven, and plain or 
striped cotton cloth, — "homespun," was the almost 
universal article of feminine wear. Of course, we 
could not buy powder and shot. Not a piece of 
calico was to be seen or had, except, perhaps, in the 
larger cities. Even home made hats, — home made 
shoes, the ladies had to come to. And I tell you 
now, some of those pretty "homespun'' dresses, the 
cotton dyed with the walnut" bark or some other in- 
digenous dye, were not to be laughed at. A calf 
skin would bring a big price, — and even cat skins, 
if nicely tanned, were in demand. I had some sat- 
isfaction in wearing a vest made of the untanned, — 
hair-on, pelt of a certain predatory Tom cat that 
kept up a famine of frying-size chickens on my 
premises. I remember that I gave $600 for a pair 
of home tanned cow leather boots; and the last 
sugar I had before the break-up cost $80 a pound. 

But I am away off; I started to tell you fellers 
a fish story, and promised to tell you how we made 
shot. 

"Now, look here, Doctor," said Hudson and Ben- 
nett at once; "we want you to understand, we beg 
to gently intimate that there is a limit to our cred- 
ulity. Making shot, — you know ." 

But, boys, I'm telling you the gospel truth, said 
179 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



the Old Doctor, with a hurt look. Confederate 
money, based on nothing whatever on this earth, 
nor in heaven, either, as to that, got to be so worth- 
less that it hardly had any value, tho' you could 
buy anything that was for sale if you had enough 
of it ; but there was no powder and shot, nor "store- 
cloze" for sale, I tell you. Why, 1^11 show you bills 
I have to this day, — bills that I have kept as heir- 
looms and curiosities, where I paid $10 per pound 
for butter, for instance, late in the war; and as 
early as ^63 I saw a soldier draw a month's pay and 
immediately give it for a dozen apples. I have bills 
for bacon at $5 per pound, and lard, ditto. In 
Covington, Ga., in 1863 (I forgot to tell you about 
it while I was telling you other Covington experi- 
ences), I had occasion to amputate the leg for a 
lad in the country, the son of a wealthy flour mill 
man. He asked my bill, and I told him that in 
peace times it would be $50. A calculation based 
on that, at the then rate of discount, would make 
it $2500 in Confederate money; but that I would 
be glad if he would let me have its equivalent in 
bacon. I have the bill for that bacon today ; it was 
$5 a pound. 

But, my stars, — I'll never get to the fish story 
at this rate, said the Old Doctor: I'm worse at 
straggling than I was in the ranks. To resume 
where I broke off, tho' I've got another pretty good 
one about Confederate prices if you will just say 
"Meridian" some day. 

180 



WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. 

One day Armstead said: 

"Doctor, spring is here; the dogwoods are in 
bloom, — the fish are biting, sure." 

"Eeckon they are," said I. 

"Wish I could get off one day to try ^em," said he. 

"I think 1^11 try them tomorrow," said I. 

"Oh, — the trout, — the trout I used to catch,'' 
said he. "Why, Doctor ." 

"Oh, dry up, Armstead; you've been telling me 
trout yarns all winter. I'll show you something 
tomorrow," I said ; and Armstead drew a deep sigh 
at the recollection, I reckon, of the fish he didn't 
"used to catch." 

There is a big mill pond up the creek some dis- 
tance above the hospitals, and I was sure there were 
good large trout in it. In fact, I had been told so 
by the owner of the mill. So, Jimmie Nick, as we 
called him (Nichols was his name, really), and I 
went up there next day. Below the mill there was 
a small but deep hole, into which the water fell 
from the "sheet" or shed, which laid on a level with 
the surface. We had no bait but red worms, — first 
rate perch bait, — but we fished diligently up the 
creek all the way to this hole under the mill, with- 
out getting a nibble. 

While standing there we noticed a bream (a 
black, striped perch, the size of your hand; very 
plentiful about Jackson where Jimmie and I were 
raised, and their favorite bait is crickets, — those 
little black- winged crickets; you know what crick- 
181 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

ets are, surely?) The bream had "shot" the little 
fall, and was floundering on the planks on which 
there was not an inch of water. 

I knew a bream was a bream, at Lauderdale as 
at Jackson, and we knew they would bite at crick- 
ets. So, Jimmie and I dropped our poles, and went 
out into a corn field near by, and caught us a lot 
of crickets, and returning, rigged our lines for 
bream. To catch bream you have to be very careful 
of your tackle. They are a wary fish, easily scared 
away. They wont bite if they see a line, so you 
have to have a line that is very slim, a small hook, 
fastened to a snood, or piece of "cat-gut/^ it is 
called, — but it is not cat-gut. It is invisible in 
water, and that is the secret of success in fishing 
for them. Remember that; thereby hangs a tale. 

In a little while Jimmie and I had rigged our 
lines, and soon had caught a long string of beauti- 
ful bream. Then we thought we'd try the trout. 
We call them trout in Mississippi, but it is the 
black bass as we see him in Texas, and they attain 
a weight from six to eight pounds; the usual size 
is from one to three pounds; three pounds is u 
large one in that section. 

We got a boat from the mill man, — got a net also, 
and going on the pond above the mill, we soon had 
a lot of fine minnows or "roaches" for bait; and 
the best luck you ever did see we had that day. I 
got a three-pounder, a shonuff big fellow, and a lot 
182 



WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. 

of smaller ones, none under a pound and a half. 
We were proud. 

"Jimmie," I said, "we'll make Armstead go off 
and grieve, wont we? We'll make him bust wide 
open with envy, — for he's a fisherman, he is." 

Eeturning to the hospital I walked proudly into 
the drug room where Armstead was putting up pre- 
scriptions behind the counter, with my hand behind 
me, and without a word I just flopped my big trout 
upon the counter right under his nose, the fish still 
alive and kicking. Oh, he was a beauty. 

Armstead's eyes nearly popped out of his head. 
He sprang back in surprise, and exclaimed : 

"Gee whillikens ! — what a — b — i — g sil — ^ver 
side !" 

I was too disgusted for utterance. I just walked 
out without a word. The fool didn't know a trout 
when he saw it, after all his blowing and bragging. 
Silver-sides are those little roaches, — look like sar- 
dines, — that we use as hait, to catch trout with. 
♦ * * * 

Next day every man, woman and child, negro 
and dog in Lauderdale was out there at that hole 
fishing. Our strings of bream and trout had set 
the village wild. Every vehicle and "animule" 
available was pressed into service, and such an exo- 
dus to Moore's mill you never saw. The comman- 
dant of the post. Colonel Nuckles (one leg off), and 
his wife were there; Captain Catlin, the provost 
marshal (crippled, of course, or he wouldn't have 
183 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

been on post duty, — such was the exigency of the 
service; every man able to bear arms had to be at 
the front, I tell you) . He was there with his wife ; 
Surgeon Kennedy, the post surgeon and his wife; 
oh, everybody and his wife and sister and sweet- 
heart was there. ^'Sister Mck?" Yes, she was 
there, too, of course; and all the young ladies, — 
and that being a refugee town there were lots of 
them ; pretty, too. 

Well, as Eeel Kerr used to say, — they chunked 
the fish with buckshot. They had every imaginable 
kind of rig ; — fish poles, corn stalks, limbs of trees. 
for rods ; fish lines, cotton twine, spool thread, car- 
penter's chalk line, and even clothes lines for lines ; 
and corks, and even quinine bottle stoppers for 
floats ; and buckshot, nut screws, nails, for sinkers ; 
liver, raw beef, grub worms, toads, — everything for 
bait but the right kind, — enough to scare every fish 
out of the creek. 

Jimmie and I couldn't get off to go with the 
caravan, but we told them where to fish, — below 
the mill ; that ^twa'nt no use wasting time anywhere 
else; that at that season bream were running up 
stream to spawn, and not being able to get past the 
mill, — why, of course, that hole was full of them. 

About ten o'clock Jimmie and I went out. The 
party had surrounded the hole, literally. They 
were sitting in almost elbow touch all around the 
hole, and poles and lines innumerable were dang- 
ling over the water, — but, — na-a-rry a fish. 
184 



WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. 

"Why, what's the matter, Colonel? I thought 
you'd have the frying pans going by the time we 
got here ; you said you would, and wouldn't leave i 
fish in the creek for me and Jimmie to catch if we 
didn't hurry up ?" said I. 

"Ah, Doctor, you fooled us. Aint no fish in this 
hole, — else you caught 'em all yesterday," said the 
colonel, unmindful of the paradox. 

Jimmie and I soon got our rigs ready, and were 
in the act of putting a cricket on the hooks when 
some one exclaimed excitedly : 

"The Colonel's got a bite 1" 

"Pull him out. Colonel !" 

"Give him line. Colonel !" 

"Dont let him get the slack on you, Colonel !" 

"Play him awhile. Colonel!" was the advice 
given the colonel all at once. Every one dropped 
his pole and gathered around the colonel to see the 
sport ; the colonel had been doing some bragging as 
well as Armstead, and had the reputation of being 
a tremendous fisherman. There was great excite- 
ment. 

The colonel was cool and collected, and he "let 
him play, — that is, — he didn't pull "him" out 
right away; that, he said, wasn't "science." When 
he thought it ivould he "science" to pull him out, he 
said: 

"Now, then; watch me land him. Get the net 
ready, quick, and be careful, — for he's a whopper !" 
And bracing himself, he gave a pull, — and out 
185 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

came a miserable little skillipot terrapin about 

as big as your fist. 

Jimmie and I put on our crickets^ and in a few 
minits had bream enough to start the frying pan. 
After dinner we cleared away a place on the grass, 
and such a "swing corners/' and such sparking and 
flirting we did have, to be sure ; while old Dan, the 
colonel's colored carriage driver, played his fiddle 
with uncommon unction. 



Iff ^ ^ *ff ^ ^ 

Jfi J» J» JKi » 

CONFEDERATE STATES SHOT FAC- 
TORY (LIMITED-VERY), 



OH, YES, said the Doctor, — so I did; I prom- 
ised to tell you how we got ammunition 
for shooting squirrels, etc. 
We would get a lot of minnie balls, or cartridges, 
if we jvist had to have it, — which was generally the 
case, the squirrels were so bad that it was danger- 
ous to be without powder and shot; I knew one to 
bite a feller once, who was out of powder and shot. 
It was, by some, thought to be sinful to so waste 
cartridges, — ^they were to kill yankees, you know. 
So, loose balls or bullets, that was different, were 
the main source of supply. 

One would take a piece of the native pine, a piece 
186 



CONFEDERATE STATES SHOT FACTORY. 

of plank, about four inches wide and sixteen inches 
long, — but it was not necessary to be exact in these 
measurements, — "any old" piece of pine would do, 
— and cut grooves in it lengthwise, some five or six 
grooves. Then, tilting this plank against the inside 
of a vessel of water so as to make an inclined plane, 
the lead was placed on the upper end of the wood, 
and fire set to the wood. A piece of "fat" pine was 
selected; — that is, a piece rich in turpentine, as it 
would burn readily. Why, sirs, "fat light'ood"" 
(lightwood), as it is generally called in the South, 
was the main source or resource, rather, for light, 
after " store" candles gave out, and especially far 
in the interior. True, many families made "tallow 
candles," but many persons also used lightwood; 
in fact, some old ladies I knew, said they "pre- 
ferred" it when they couldn't get the tallow to make 
"dips," as they were called. 

The bullets would melt gradually, and the molten 
lead would run down the grooves and drop in the 
water in the kettle. Well, now, they were not 
round, — that's a fact; but they were more or less, 
— generally less, — round, and as the Johnny Eeb, 
who was laughed at for riding a calf on the march, 
said, it beat walkin', — so these fragments of lead 
beat no shot at all; and by rolling them under a 
flat iron we managed to make pretty good shot of 
them; good enough to kill a turkey with, even. 
By-the-bye, Dan'els, remind me to tell you about 
one I did kill at Lauderdale ; it's a good one, as Dr. 
187 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Billy Yandell, the State Quarantine Officer at El 
Paso, Texas^ will testify ; he helped eat it. 

'No, — we didn't get a patent on the process of 
making shot. We gave the public the benefit of the 
invention, and the process came into general use 
wherever the blessing of fat light'ood was known. 

SS" *lf *ff 

» J» 
DR. YANDELL AND THE TURKEY. 



TELL you about the turkey, now? said the 
Doctor. After a short breathing spell he 
said: As well now as any other time. All 
right. 

Back of Dr. Yandell's hospital, — that was Dr. 
Henry Yandell of Yazoo county, Mississippi, a 
cousin of Dr. Bill Yandell, who, by-the-bye, was 
only a big "kid" at that time, an undergraduate 
in medicine, and was a sorter hospital steward or 
something, at his cousin's hospital, — there was a 
swamp, of which I told you, through which the 
creek runs, and where there was such good hunting. 
One afternoon I took my gun, and passing through 
Yandell's yard, one of the men said : 

"Doc, I seen turkeys down by the bridge yis- 
tiddy." 

188 



DR. YANDELL AND THE TURKEY. 

"1^11 go look for them/' said I. "Thanks/^ 

I hadn't gotten more than a mile from the hos- 
pital before I heard a turkey, "put" — "put." The 
woods were very thick. Looking cautiously thro' 
the underbrush I saw two turkeys on the ground, 
with their necks stretched, looking scared, and as 
if about to fly. Trembling with excitement (I had 
what is known amongst hunters as a "mild buck- 
ager," — ague), I let drive with one barrel and 
knocked over one of the turkeys, — the other one 
running off yelping. 

I ran to my turkey, terribly excited and all over 
of a tremble. The turkey was fluttering on the 
ground, and I caught it, and holding it up, dis- 
covered, — oh, holy horrors ! — that one wing was 
clipped! The truth flashed on me in an instant. 
They were Dr. Yandell's turkeys, strayed off from 
the hospital. I could understand, now, why the 
other fellow didn't fly, but ran off, yelpin', — some- 
thing no well bred wild turkey was ever known to 
do. 

I had no idea of throwing it away. I was 
ashamed to take it to the hospital and own up like 
a little man. No Sir — ree! In fact, I was turkey 
hungry, and wanted the meat. Turkey was turkey 
in those days. So, I just plucked out the cut quills 
and buried them. The head of a "tame" turkey is 
much redder, — of lighter color than that of a wild 
turkey. This one, fortunately for me, was a black 
one, and looked very much like a wild turkey. I 
189 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

took my knife out of my pocket, and cut gashes on 
the head, — on the "wattles," as the children call the 
nodulated growths on a turkey's head, — to let out 
some of the blood, so as to make it look sorter blue, 
— like a wild turkey's head, you know. I picked 
her up by the head, squeezing it so as to aid the 
blue-ing process^ and marched boldly through Dr. 
Yandell's hospital yard. 

"Hello !" said the doctor and young Yandell 
(now "Old" Yandell). "You got one, shonuff, 
Doctor?" 

"Yes," I said; "There were about twenty (that 
was a whopper), but I only got one shot; they were 
so wild." 

Yandell didn't notice the quills being pulled out ; 
if any one had said anything about that, I had a 
lie ready to explain it : I was "going to make pens 
out of 'em" (for you boys must know that even the 
steel pens gave out, and we had to fall back on the 
primitive quill pens of the daddys. I was taught 
to write with one, and I'm not a Methuselah, how- 
ever). 

I invited Dr. Yandell, Dr. Seymour and young 
Yandell to dine with me next day and help eat the 
turkey. It was brown and savory, and quite fat. 
It was served with "fixin's," and was a real treat. 
Dr. Yandell in particular, was in ecstacies. Said 
he: 

"Anybody who ever tasted wild turkey can recog- 
nize the superiority, the sweetness of the flesh over 
190 



DR. YANDELL AND THE TURKEY. 

that of a domestic, yard-raised, hand-fed turkey. 
This one, now, has a most delicious aroma of beech 
nuts, — a "nutty" taste, which is characteristic of 
the wild bird. This is delicious, Doctor; you may 
help me to another piece of the dark meat, please. 
We have turkey at the hospital, frequently, of 
course," continued the doctor, between mouthfuls, 
"but I never eat it; tame turkey aint fit to eat, in 
fact." 

I was just ready to burst with amusement, and 
could with great difficulty keep my face sftraight; 
but I did it, — looked as solemn as a judge, or as 
Hudson there, does, when the bill collector comes 
around. I hadn't even told my wife, or I couldn't, 
for the life of me, have kept from laughing ; it was 
such a good joke. 

To this day Dr. Yandell does not know the trick I 
played on him, nor does Dr. Billy. Seymour ? Dead 
I reckon; haven't heard of him since. Yandell, 
while one of the jolliest fellows in the world, was 
still, somewhat touchy, — would shoot, as quick as 
a wink, and to tell you the truth I was always 
afraid to let him know that he had made such an 
ass of himself, — doing all that blowing while eat- 
ing one of his own old hospital turkey hens. It's 
safe, now ; he's in Mississippi. 
191 



sT 5^ 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBeI SURGEON. 



WISDOM IN A MULTITUDE OF COUN- 
SEL (NIT). 



AMONG the medical officers at Lauderdale at 
the time I am speaking of^ continued the 
Old Doctor, the winter preceding the 
general smash-up of the Confederate States in 
April, 1865^ there was a Dr. Thombus of Kentucky, 
a surgeon. He knew it all. He was my senior by 
about fifteen years, say, about forty years old. To 
tell you the truth, he reminded me more of "Tittle- 
bat Titmouse" (Ten Thousand a Year), than any 
one I ever knew. Like Tittlebat T., he used to 
address the young ladies as "gals," and say "how 
you was ?" He had charge of a hospital, and I had 
only a ward, in his hospital. In my ward the head 
nurse, or ward-master, was a young man named 
Newt Swain (I wonder what ever became of him? 
I'd like to know). Newt was reading medicine 
under my instruction, and he swore by me, both as 
a diagnostician and an operator. 

In our ward was a man who had had a heavy 
fall some years previously, striking on the right 
shoulder. It gave him no trouble, for a while, but 
then the shoulder began to swell and pain him 
some at times, and he came to that hospital for 
treatment. Before coming he had received another 
fall, striking on the same shoulder. The shoulder 
was greatly swollen, the swelling extending up the 
192 



WISDOM IN A MULTITUDE OF COUNSEL. 

neck till it began to oppress his breathing ; imping- 
ing on the phrenic nerve. 

This man had been in this hospital a long time, 
the swelling being treated empirically, with iodine 
and blisters, without any one ever having made a 
diagnosis. ISTo one knew just what the trouble was. 

One day I noticed that the swelling was growing 
faster, and it was beginning to interfere seriously 
with the man^s breathing; he had to take to bed. 
I called a consultation of all hands at the post, some 
fifteen doctors, big and little, and asked for an 
opinion on the case as to diagnosis, and what ought 
to be done. 

After all of them had examined the patient, Dr. 
Thombus said: 

"It's a fatty tumor, and ought to be cut out,'' 
giving his reasons for his diagnosis, and "proving 
it," he said, by Gross' Surgery, a copy of which he 
produced and showed us. Furthermore, Gross said 
it ought to be cut out. All the others agreed with 
him, until it came my turn, it being my patient, 
and I being the youngest of the party, I was last. 

"What do you think, Doctor ?" said Thombus to 
me. 

"I have no definite opinion as to diagnosis," said 
I. "I'm rather puzzled over the case; that's why 
I called you all. But from the man's history, I 
very much suspect that it is a diffused aneurism, 
and that capillary hemorrhage going on in there 
now, accounts for the gradual swelling. I feel quite 
193 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A KEBEL SURGEON. 

sure it's not a fatty tumor, and I dissent from the 
proposition to cut it. If you cut down there (over 
the scapula), you'll get into a bleeding cavity, and 
not be able to reach the subcapular artery to tie it." 

Thombus gave a horse guffaw. He said : 

"By the time you've cut as much as me and Yan- 
dell and Henson (naming nearly all the others), 
you wont be so scarey of the knife, young man," 
attributing my dissent to timidity on my part, con- 
found him, when, at that moment I had probably 
already done more "cuttin'," than he had. 

"Well," I said, "If you luill open it, I'll get every- 
thing ready for you, as it is my ward and my pa- 
tient, and I'll turn him over to the surgeon in 
charge (T.), but you must ex-cuse-me, if you please. 
As Pontius Pilate said on a certain occasion I 
need not more specifically refer to, ^this man's 
blood be upon your heads' (or hands, I've forgotten 
P. P's exact expression) ; Tin going fishing." And 
after clearing the deck for action, as we would say 
now ; war phrases are on again ; that is, after mak- 
ing every preparation for the operation, I lit out. 

Late that afternoon as I came up the road to the 
hospital, my string of perch swinging by my side, 
I caught sight of Swain, my ward-master and stu- 
dent, away down at the big gate, waiting for me. 
As soon as I came in sight he waved his hand and 
hollered : 

"x^neurism, by Jo ! Man's dead !" 
194 



A NIGHT IN MERIDIAN. 



A NIGHT IN MERIDIAN, 



WHILE stationed at Lauderdale, Miss., of 
which I have been telling you boys some 
things, I had occasion to run down to 
Meridian, which, as everybody knows, is on the 
M. & 0. Eailroad, some thirty miles below Lauder- 
dale, and is the junction of the Southern, and some 
other roads. Every Confederate soldier, if not 
everybody in the United States, knows Meridian. 
It had the hardest name during the war of any 
place, unless it be Andersonville, Ga., the memor- 
able prison. By-the-bye; let me digress here long 
enough to say that at one time I was ordered to 
Andersonville to take charge of that ill-fated prison 
hospital; and had I gone I should have suffered 
martyrdom instead of Dr. Mudd. It was perhaps, 
— nay, — no doubt, the most fortunate escape I ever 
made, not excepting that at Covington. I got off, 
somehow, I do not now remember on what pretext. 

I had heard enough of the hotel at Meridian to 
know that it was the best place in the world to not 
stop at. Where is the Confederate now living who 
had not either been a victim of "Eoom 40," or 
heard tell of its horrors, by surviving sufferers ? 

The only alternative to going to that hotel of 

such notoriety, was to go to a little so-called hotel 

kept by an old man named Dr. Johnson. It was a 

little log house of two rooms and a passage way be- 

195 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REB^L SURGEON. 

tween them, to the back of which had been added 
two "shed" rooms, which^ including the space cor- 
re^onding to the passage way, made two longer 
rooms, one of which was used for the "dining 
room/' There was a front gallery, as it is called 
in some places, "porch" in others, extending the 
length of the building in front, and on each end of 
this gallery after the demand for accommodation 
set in, a little room was boarded off with rough 
lumber. These rooms, — if they can be called rooms, 
were the width of the porch, — say, eight feet, and 
were eight feet in length; 8x8 feet ^T)ed rooms." 
One of these cells was my bed room that night. 
There was no ceiling or plastering; nothing be- 
tween me and the outside world, — the winter blasts, 
— except the '"weatherboarding," the studding, or 
uprights, to which it was nailed being visible on the 
inside. It was a mere shell; there was no ceiling 
overhead. As I lay in, or, rather, on, my bunk, I 
could see the stars in the sky through the chinks 
and crannies of the roof. 

It was a dreadful cold night, during the winter 
that preceded the general break-up, — the winter of 
1864-5; the surrender took place the following 
April. By that time Confederate money had gotten 
to be almost worthless, but it was the only cur- 
rency, — circulating medium — we had. We were 
less fortunate than our friends in ;N"orth Carolina, 
who, it was said, used herrings for small change, 
and it was a common thing to hear a chap at a 
196 



A NIGHT IN MERIDIAN. 

"store" say: "Mister, gimme a herrin's wuth o' 
snuff.'' So, Confederate script had to go,— at some 
valuation, 

I had to choose between this lay out and that 
"hoter' down town of which so many tough stories 
were told. This "Eetreat/' as the proprietor called 
it (mind you, in dead sober earnest, he was), was 
about half a mile from the business center,— "far 
from the world's ignoble strife," and from the 
"madding crowd," — for there was most assuredly 
a mad crowd there, at least, always ; and the mad- 
dest of the crowd was a fellow who having spent 
the night before in "Koom forty" declared that he 
had had his socks stolen off his feet, notwithstand- 
ing he had gone to bed with his boots on. 

Tell you about room forty? You never heard 
of it? Well, that's a fact; you belong to the new 
issue; Dan'els has been there. 

It was called "room forty" because there were 
forty bunks in it, and it was made to lodge forty 
gray-backs. Soldiers were arriving at all times of 
the night, and after the other rooms were filled, 
the overflow,— and there was always an overflow,— 
were sent to room forty. The hotel was right at 
the depot, and was a two-story and attic plank 
building in a lamentable state of incompleteness,— 
was never finished. Eoom forty was the space up 
under the roof, between the floor and which there 
was nothing except the rafters, which "came 
handy," the proprietor said, "to hang things from." 
107 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGKO>.'. 

And as an illustration of its utility there was hiing 
from the center joist an old smoky lantern, and 
some forgotten or abandoned canteens. The floor 
space to the uprights or studding on each side, 
and not including the unavailable space under 
the eaves of the roof; unavailable, except as a 
repository of odds and ends of rubbish, and as a 
den for rats, cats and other varmints, was about 
40x60 feet, and on each side of the room and down 
the center were rough deal bunks, each with its 
feather bed of straw and two gray horse blankets. 
That they were occupied by representatives of the 
Cimex L. family as well as by numerous pediciili is 
to be understood as a matter of course. Soldiers 
have told me that some fellers knowing this, yet 
being compelled to sleep, would swig enough Meri- 
dian whiskey to stupify themselves, and would 
snore through the night in defiance of the first 
settlers. Others, who could not sleep, would play 
cards, smoke and cuss all night, and hence the aisles 
between the rows of bunks were often filled with a 
rowdy crowd of soldiers. You can readily under- 
stand the delights of a night in room forty. Your 
slumbers would be accompanied by a chorus of 
snores, snatches of ribald songs, coarse jests and 
coarser oaths, all seasoned and scented with the 
fumes of villainous tobacco smoked in old stinkin' 
pipes, — to say nothing of the rumbling, the whist- 
ling, the lettin' off steam of numerous locomotives 
just beneath your bunk. "Which is why I remark,'* 
198 



A IsIGHT IN MERIDIAN. 

that hotel was the very best place in the world to 
not stop at; and that is why I sought Dr. John- 
son's "Eetreat." 

The "Retreat" was situated on a hill west of town 
and just at the edge of the almost interminable pine 
forest that stretched away for miles in every direc- 
tion. I registered, — there being some two or three 
other unfortunates there, and they had just fin- 
ished supper, — finished it in a literal sense, as I 
will presently show. It was the invariable rule at 
that, and all other "hotels," those times, to require 
payment in advance. I stated that it was my wish 
to have supper, lodging for the night, and break- 
fast. I was told that my bill would be $300, which 
I paid, of course. It would have been the same at 
"room forty," and the alternative was, — pay or 
spend the night out doors. 

I was shown into supper. The table was there, 
and some crumbs of cawn bread the others had not 
eaten; and in a large blue edged dish was a piece 
of very fat bacon, about as large as an egg, swim- 
ming in an ocean of clear grease, — simply lard in 
a liquid state. There was a bottle of alleged mo- 
lasses, — it was home made sorghum syrup. These 
dainties, with a cup of "coffee" made of parched 
cawn meal and sweetened with the sorghum syrup, 
was the "menu." (Between me'n you I didn't eat 
a whole lot. There was nothing to eat.) 

So, like Jack in the story, I retired supperless 
to — I had nearly told a lie; I was going to say 
189 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

"bed." I retired to my room. It was lighted, or, it 
would be more proper to say — the darkness was 
intensified by a solitary tallow candle (home made, 
of course), about two inches long^ stuck in the neck 
of an empty whiskey bottle. This, the "landlord," 
as all proprietors of "hotels" in the South are 
called, — I dont know why, — set up on a little shelf 
nailed up to the wall. I seated myself, after hav- 
ing received the well-meaning old gentleman's 
"good night," — ^on the stool chair, the sole repre- 
sentative of the chair family present, and it with- 
out a back, and calmly surveyed my quarters; 
"viewed the prospect o'er." It wasn't "pleasing"; 
and "man" was not the only thing that was "vile" 
thereabouts. 

The bed, which, with this stool, constituted the 
entire equipment, was a bunk two and one-half feet 
wide, built in one corner of the room, of rough 
scantling. On this was a coarse cotton sack filled 
with straw, and a pillow of the same soothing ma- 
terials. There were the inevitable two gray horse 
blankets for covering, — no sheets, — and so help me 
Moses, this was the lay-out in which I was expected 
to get $300 worth of the "balmy." It was the 
longest night that ever was. I did not undress, but 
just laid do^vn on the bunk with clothing, boots, 
overcoat and all on, and drew the blankets over me. 

By that time my candle was burned out. They 
say "men love darkness because their deeds are 
evil." "There are others" who like darkness, or 
200 



A NIGHT IN MERIDIAN. 

rather (as do certain of the genus homo), take 
advantage of it to get in their work. In Meridian at 
that time, sand-bagging, garroting and similar pas- 
times were of nightly occurrence. I soon discovered 
that there were "others '^ claiming this luxurious 
couch; it had been pre-empted and was held by a 
large colony of the cimex lectularius family; they 
were there in force, and, asserting their rights, I 
had to vacate, — give possession. I did so with 
alacrity on the first "notice to quit." They began 
work on the tenderest parts of my anatomy the 
moment the candle went out. 

Having before going up to the "Retreat" trans- 
acted the little business I had to attend to, and 
which brought me to Meridian, it was my intention 
to return home on the morning passenger train 
which passed up usually at 8 o'clock. What to do 
with myself meantime, was the problem that con- 
fronted me. Sleep was out of the question. No 
fire, no light, as dark as Erebus, and as cold as 
church charity. I had to exist in some way thro' 
the tedious hours of that long cheerless night. The 
very stillness of the small hours was oppressive. It 
was broken at intervals by the snort of some lodger 
more thick skinned than I, and who was evidently 
defying the cimex family, a sharp snort, with 
which his constant snoring was punctuated. The 
room was too small to permit any exercise, and I 
thought I would freeze. 

Finally, I became so drowsy, so overcome with 
201 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A IJEBAl SURGEON. 

the cold, that I concluded that as the least of two 
evils I would try the bunk again, more for the 
warmth of the blankets than in any hope of sleep. 
I laid down again, flat on my back, and pulled ihe 
blankets up to my chin. 

In a short time I was in that strange condition 
known as sleep waking, in which the body is asleep, 
but the mind is awake, though the coordination of 
thought is interrupted. There was no fastening to 
the door, — the only aperture to the room, — and I 
went to sleep watching that door. 

Presently, it seemed that sometliing, something 
horrible and undefined and undefinable, — entered 
that door and came and tried to smother me with a 
black blanket, or something, and sat all over me, 
literally. I didn't know what it was ; it was some- 
thing black, and, you know in dreams we are never 
surprised at any incongruity, at anything, because 
it always seems quite natural. I could not get my 
breath. I tried to holler out, but I couldn't. I 
felt that I would be smothered before I could cry 
out. It seemed tho' that I slid from the bunk and 
got to the door, tho' the bed covers tangled my legs, 
and they felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, 
and I finally got out of the door and ran, with 
the black thing pursuing me like an overgrown 
and very ugly Nemesis. I suddenly found myself 
going headforemost over the precipice of an ice- 
berg, that black thing right after me. The sensa- 
202 



A NIGHT IN MERIDIAN. 

tiou of falling, which no doubt you fellers have 
experienced in sleep, aroused me, broke the spell, 
and with a start I sat up, throwing off of me a 
great gaunt gray cat. It had entered my boudoir 
from overhead, crept in on the rafters with which 
the overhead was ornamented, and dropping down 
noiselessly on my bunk, was calmly sitting on my 
chest looking at me. Ugh ! As I threw him, her 
or it off, I dont know which was the worst scared, 
the cat or yours truly. As he, she or it crouched in 
the corner its eyes shown like the headlights of two 
locomotives. I opened the door, and striking a 
match, ran the cat out. 

The prisoner of Chilon turned gray in a single 
night; — no, I believe he said "my hair is gray, but 
not with years, nor turned it white in a single 
night." However, be that as it may, I think I 
turned blue, black, green, grey and yellow by turns 
that night. Its horrors will live in my memory as 
long as memory lasts. 

I still couldn't get my breath, notwithstanding 
the nightmare was gone. The blood all seemed to 
be centered at my heart, and I was nearly frozen. 
I swung my arms, stamped my feet, and beat my 
chest to see if I couldn't start the sluggish blood. 
I was afraid to go out doors and run ; even if there 
had not been the danger of my freezing, and as 
said, inside the room there was not space enough to 
even walk about. 

203 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A RE»EL SURGEON. 

"Eagerly I wished the morrow; 
Vainly I sought to borrow 
From my (pipe) surcease from sorrow." 

l^arry morrow, — narry borrow. Luckily I had a 
supply of smoking tobacco and some matches, and 
I just sat bolt upright on that backless chair all 
night and smoked my pipe. I thought of every- 
thing mean I had ever done, and wondered if hell 
wasn't something like this, — cold, instead of hot, 
and where you have nightmare, with cats perched 
on your thorax. If not, I should have liked to 
make the exchange then and there. 

Byrne-bye, away along yonder when Orion had 
dipped below the horizon, and the Little Dipper 
was getting ready to dip ; when the stars generally, 
preparatory to going off duty, were extinguishing 
their little lamps and had suspended the twinklin' 
business, — realizing that the sun was coming, and 
that they couldn't "hold a light" to him ; when the 
first streaks of gray made their appearance in the 
east, I heard a lonesome rooster crow, — away over 
yonder. I heard the big shanghai next door answer 
his challenge, going him considerable '^^etter" on 
the final syllable of his remarks. I heard a belated 
owl hoot, from the bosom of the adjacent thicket. 
I heard the frantic scream of a coming engine, 
coming as if it were in a hurry to get in out of the 
€old. I could almost, in the mind's eye, — see it blow 
in its hands to keep them warm, as you have seen 
204 



A NIGHT IN MERIDIAN. 

school boys do on a frosty morning. It was an up- 
train; going my way. 

Ah, to the frozen, famished Greely party on their 
monopoly of ice, the sound of the steam whistle of 
the rescue ship was not more welcome than was that 
screamin' locomotive, running like a scared wolf,, 
to mv anxious ears. 'Not to the besiesred at Luck- 
now was the "pibroch's shrill note," announcing the 
coming of Campbell with the camels, more welcome 
than was that same screamer, screaming as she- 
approached Meridian, to yours truly. It was to 
carry me away from Meridian, from the scenes of 
that dreadful night. 

By the time the train had arrived at the station 
I was there, and was soon snugly seated by the 
stove in the conductor's caboose (it was a freight 
train), thawing and thinking. In an hour I was 
telling my wife the adventures over a cup of sho- 
nuff coffee, and smoking waffles weltering in fresh 
butter. 

I shall never forget Dr. Johnson's "Eetreat,"" 
nor the hotel bill. I have no doubt it is the cham- 
pion hotel bill of all creation, the biggest one on 
record for a night's lodging (alleged). I arrived 
after supper, sat up all night, and left before break- 
fast, and paid $300. 

205 

0- 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



A CHAPTER FOR DOCTORS, 



SUEGESY during the war was a very differ- 
ent thing from what it is now, said the Old 
Doctor, leaning back in my editorial chair, 
with his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, and 
with a dignified expression on his usually jolly 
countenance, as if to say, "I'm going to talk sense 
now." For, even at the best, with the best appli- 
ances, you know that it was practiced upon an 
entirely different theory. It was before anything 
whatever was known of the "germ-pathology.'' It 
was believed that suppuration was necessary to 
healing by second intention, and as healing by first 
intention could not be hoped for in larger wounds, 
and rarely in gunshot wounds at all, the aim of the 
surgeon was to promote suppuration as rapidly as 
possible ; and the appearance, on the third or fourth 
day, of a creamy pus was hailed with satisfaction. 
It was called "laudable pus" (which clearly enough 
indicates what was thought of it). To that end, 
hot cloths were applied, — cloths wetted in hot water, 
and even in some instances, poultices. 

I should state, however, tliat notwithstanding 
what I have said, it was routine practice after an 
operation, large or small, to put on "wet com- 
presses," cold dressings, and to fix a tin cup over 
the w^ound, filled with cold water, — and a cotton 
thread led the water to fall, drop by drop on the 
206 



A CHAPTER FOR DOCTORS. 

wound. It was only in the larger cities that ice 
could be had. I suppose the theory was, that cold 
would keep down excessive inflammation. When 
suppuration began the dressings were changed to 
warm applications to promote it. 

In light of our present knowledge does it not look 
ridiculous? The intentional, though unconscious 
propagation of millions of pathogenic "germs/' — 
the prevention of which is the great object now, and 
constitutes the greatest triumph of the surgical 
art in the century ! Think of the thousands of 
precious lives that could have been saved if Lister's 
great work had come fifty years sooner. 

Experience soon demonstrated that a gunshot 
wound of any joint was almost invariably fatal, — 
and even a gunshot fracture of the femur by the 
methods of treatment, was so nearly always at- 
tended with fatal results that it became, early in 
the war, the rule to amputate for both; and that 
primary operation gave the best chances for recov- 
ery; that is, amputation as soon after the wound 
was made as possible. Think of the thousands of 
limbs that were sacrificed that could, under modern 
methods, have been easily saved. And, as to 
bruised, "contused'' or lacerated fractures, not a 
moment was wasted, but amputation was at once 
done. How many thousand lives were lost through 
Ignorance, want of experience, want of skill, want 
of suitable appliances will, of course, never be 
known. I, myself, once performed an amputation 
207 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBKL SURGEON. 

with a pocket knife and a common saw. But for 
the most part the Confederate surgeons had instru- 
ments, such as they were ; and it was a work of love 
with the women of the South to make bandages 
and lint. They often stripped their families and 
their households of sheets, spreads, and even skirts 
in order to supply bandages and lint to the hos- 
pitals. For the most part the women regarded the 
cause as holy, or next to holy, and they stopped at 
no sacrifice of personal possessions or comfort. 

Hospital gangrene and erysipelas were the great 
scourges of the hospitals, and carried off more sol- 
diers, I dare sa}^, than yankee bullets did. We knew 
nothing, as I told you, of germ causation, and there- 
fore nothing of germicides and antiseptics. The 
treatment was altogether empirical. I remember, 
somebody said that sulphide of lead was a sovereign 
application for hospital gangrene. It was not 
stated upon what principle it was supposed to act ; 
but was just "good for" gangrene. I can recall 
now, the zeal with which most surgeons took hold 
of the new treatment, and we had to extemporize 
the remedy. I see now, the crude iron pot in which 
a lot of minnie balls are being melted. When 
melted, flour of sulphur was industriously stirred 
in until the mixture became of the proper consist- 
ency, — and when cool, it was a gray-black powder. 
This was liberally sprinkled on the wound; most 
often the wound was filled with it. I do not re- 
member that I ever knew it to do any good. In 
208 



A CHAPTER FOR DOCTORS. 

this connection I recall an experience that I shall 
never forget. 

As officer of the day I had to sleep at the hospital 
a certain night. Gangrene was amongst the 
wounded. There was a boy whose wound, in the 
center of the left hand, — of course making a com- 
pound fracture of the metacarpal bones, — was at- 
tacked with gangrene. It was being treated by the 
method in vogue, when that night an artery, — the 
palmar arch, sprang a leak ; that is, hemorrhage set 
in. The nurse called me, and by the light of a 
single smoky coal oil lamp^ and with the assistance 
of a very stupid and sleepy nurse, — one of the con- 
valescent soldiers, I had to amputate the hand. 
What is worse, for some reason not now recalled, 
the instruments were either out of place or locked 
up, or at any rate were not available, and I did the 
operation with the contents of a small pocket case 
and the saw that belonged to the carpenter, while 
my assistant held the lamp. 

Think of the situation, ye up-to-date surgeons. 
I administered the chloroform, and had one eye on 
his respiration, while with the other eye, I directed 
as best I could the cutting process and the ligating 
of the arteries. The boy recovered; but the surgeon 
in charge, — it was Dr. Charles E. Michelle, still 
living, I believe, in St. Louis, gave me hail Colum- 
bia for not saving that boy's hand, or, at least, sav- 
ing the little finger and the thumb ; and he demon- 
strated to me (I was but a kid in years, remember, 
209 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A IJ^BEL SURGEON. 

tho^ a surgeon of rank with him and the best of 
them; I was 24)^ and demonstrated to the assem- 
bled wisdom of the hospital how nicely the little 
finger and the thumb might have been saved, and 
what a comfort they would have been to the boy in 
after years in picking cotton, for instance. (He 
did not say "picking cotton"; that's a "volun- 
tary.") I had kept the hand for his inspection, and 
^^hail Columbia" was what I got. 

RECOLLECTION OF HAWTHORN. 

You all knew Professor Frank Hawthorn of the 
University of Louisiana, of course, continued the 
Doctor, — after resting a little from the above reci- 
tation. Speaking of that case reminds me of an 
experience of his. He had a case with hemorrhage 
adjuncts. His man had been shot through the 
flesh in the bend of the elbow, but the artery had 
not been cut. Secondary hemorrhage set in, how- 
ever, and as a lot of the big surgeons (he wasn't a 
very big one then, but he got to be, later), were at 
that post, inspecting and operating, Hawthorn pui; 
on a tournequet and controlled the bleeding till he 
could have them see the case and advise what was 
best to do. There were Dr. Ford, Medical Director 
of the army; Dr. Stout, medical director of hospi- 
tals; Dr. Pim, Dr. Saunders (now of Memphis), 
and others. Hawthorn showed the case and said: ' 

"What is the best to do?" turning to Medical 
Director Ford. 

210 



A CHAPTER FOR DOCTORS. 

"Well, I dont know, er — rer; what say, Stout?" 

"Well, I dont know; er — rer; what say, Saun- 
ders?" 

"Well, I dont know; what say, Phn?" 

Hawthorn got impatient, and picking up a bis- 
toury said : 

"Here's what / say do" : suiting the action to the 
word, laying the wound wide open at one sweep, 
and taking up the ends of the artery, had a liga- 
ture around it quicker than a wink. 

This party of big surgeons came to the hospital 
where I was stationed. All the wounded that were 
thought subjects for operation were brought out 
one at a time, under the shade of the trees in the 
beautiful yard of the Hill hospital at Covington, 
for examination and operation, or otherwise, as de- 
cided by this tribunal. 

Amongst those brought out on this occasion was 
a large Swede, who had received a gunshot fracture 
of the radius near the wrist. The question was, to 
resect (it was called "resect," tho' "exsect" seems 
to me would be more proper) ; that is, cut out the 
jagged ends of the bone, or to let it alone. It was 
decided to saw off the ends of the bone, of course. 

The man was put on the table, but before chloro- 
form was given, he said : 

"Gentlemen, have I any say-so about this opera- 
tion?" 

"Why, certainly," replied several of the boss sur- 
geons. 

211 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

The man looked around at each face in turn, 
then pointing to me, — the only beardless one in the 
lot, and looking like a kid, he said : 

"There^s the man I want to do the cutting on my 
arm." 

I did the operation like a little man, and my 
grateful Swede made a splendid recovery. 

But I have digressed. I was telling you of Haw- 
thorn. 

Hawthorn went out as a private soldier in the 
10th Alabama infantry when he was a fresh grad- 
uate of medicine. His regiment was at Pensacola. 
One of his company got shot through the foot, and 
all the surgeons were absent, fishing, it was said. 
Some one said: "Hawthorn, in this man's com- 
pany, is a doctor, — get him !" They got him. He 
cut down and tied the posterior tibial artery, — ^the 
correct thing to do, — and when the surgeon re- 
turned, — it was Dr. Ford, — a little later, the med- 
ical director I have been speaking of, — ^he asked 
who had done that operation ? saying it was a neat 
operation, and a creditable Job. He was told that 
the operator was Private Hawthorn of the 10th 
Alabama. Dr. Ford immediately appointed him 
assistant surgeon, and a little later he passed exam- 
ination and was made surgeon, and soon became 
known throughout the army as one of the ablest 
surgeons we had. 

I want to record here, while I think of it, what 
has always seemed a very remarkable fact; it is 
212 



A CHAPTER FOR DOCTORS. 

this : The Confederate surgeons were handicapped 
in many ways. We were short on chloroform^ and 
had to use it as economically as possible, — we had 
none to waste. We had to use such as we could get 
and could not be choice as to quality. We couldn't 
specify that it was to be "Squibb's." Some that we 
used I know was adulterated. I remember a lot 
that smelled like turpentine. Well, sirs, I want to 
tell you now, that I administered chloroform and 
had it administered for me many scores of times, 
for all manner of operations and on all sizes and 
ages and conditions of men^ and I never had a seri- 
ous accident, — never a death from chloroform, nor 
had a man to die on the table during my whole 
experience as a surgeon during the war. I do think 
it remarkable, when I recall the perfect abandon, — 
the almost reckless manner in which it was given 
to every patient put on the table, almost without 
examination of lungs or heart and without inquiry. 
I can only attribute it in part to the fact that it 
was given freely, — boldly pushed to surgical anes- 
thesia, and no attempt was made to cut till the 
patient was limber. 

Nathan Smith's wire splint was a blessing to the 
Confederate surgeons, — a refuge, and a tower of 
strength. It is so simple, so easily and quickly 
made, so cheap, and so easily adapted to almost 
every fracture that it was generally used. We had 
no ready made splints, such as are on sale now 
everywhere. We made our own splints. 
213 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Before the war pneumonia was, in the South, 
nearly always of the sthenic type, and the lancet 
and antimony were the sheet anchors of treatment, 
followed by quinine, as the disease was most rife 
in malarial sections. The disease not only stood 
depleting, but demanded it. Naturally, when we 
first encountered pneumonia in the hospitals the 
customary treatment was instituted. It was ex- 
ceedingly fatal, and it was soon seen that from the 
inception a sustaining treatment was demanded, 
and was found to be successful. That is, brandy 
(or whiskey if brandy could not be had), and 
opium and quinine became the standard. The dis- 
ease seemed" to have entirely changed its form; be- 
came asthenic, — and the Surgeon-General, Dr. S. 
P. Moore, actually issued orders prohibiting the use 
of antimony or the lancet, and I am not sure it did 
not include veratrum. 

Well, sirs, — when we returned to civil practice 
naturally we followed the stimulating plan, brandy 
and opium, only to find that in many cases it was 
disappointing, and hence there was a revival in the 
South of the lancet to quite a considerable extent, — 
and that the disease in private life was again of 
the robust or sthenic form. I remember following 
the stimulating treatment and seeing others do it^ 
and I can look back now and realize that many 
patients were actually killed by whiskey pushed too 
far. 

You can readily understand that drugs and med- 
214 



A CHAPTER FOR DOCTORS. 

icines, being what Avas called ^'contraband of war/' 
soon became scarce and high priced. We were very 
soon thrown on our native resources, and had to 
make use of the valuable indigenous plants, with 
which the South abounds. Practicing medicine in 
the army was not like it is now ; now, it is almost a 
luxury. A Dr. Porcher, of South Carolina, issued 
a book of the medicinal plants of the South, and 
it became a text book. The surgeons would send 
the convalescents to the woods to get willow bark, 
oak bark, black-berry root, dew-berry root, sassafras 
bark, scull-cap root, etc., and the bark of the slip- 
pery-elm tree was a blessing ; we made poultices of 
it. Oh, the poor soldiers hadn't much of a chance 
in the hospitals, compared to those of the Federal 
army, whose surgeons had every necessary adjunct 
for the skillful practice of medicine and surorery. 
Think of treating the long fevers and the amputa- 
tions, in the long hot summer months without ice. 
The mortality was fearful at best. 

But, boys, I have violated my principles and the 
principles of my Eetroscope in indulging in the 
gloomy reflections of the last hour, — but I promise 
you I will not do so again. I did it because I have 
been telling you fellows so many funny and ridicu- 
lous recollections that I fear I have conveyed but a 
feeble idea of what a hospital surgeon's life was 
during those terrible times. 

Moreover we lived under the most absolute tyran- 
ny that ever existed. The conscript officers were 
215 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

everywhere, and guards on the lookout for strag- 
glers and deserters, and even an officer on leave of 
absence had to be very securely armed with the 
l^roper kind of papers to go anywhere. I was on 
a train once and saw the conscript officers take off 
to camp a man who was beyond the then conscript 
age, because he did not have satisfactory papers; 
and a man without them was arrested wherever 
found, and had to give a good account of himself, 
else a gun was put into his hands and he was sent 
off to camp, even if he had come to town to sell 
a load of wood to get bread for his family. I saw 
such an arrest made once, and the poor devil's 
wagon and team and load of wood were left stand- 
ing in the street. 

I procured leave of absence once, and went home. 
The first thing on arrival was to get a permit to 
pass unmolested throughout the county. If I went 
out of town a mile on any road I was halted and 
made to show my papers at every forks of the road. 

But, upon the whole, I am glad I lived in war 
times. I trust to God that I may not live to see 
another war, — but I am glad to have been through 
that one, and to have seen and experienced what X 
did. First, I had a taste of a private's hardships, — 
and I tell you it was play, then, to what it became 
later; and I shall never cease to wonder how the 
boys stood it, and what it was that kept up their 
courage to such a wonderful degree, — for it is ad- 
mitted that seldom in the history of the world, 
210 



IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 

since the days of Sparta and Troy, perhaps, has 
such undaunted courage been seen in the face of 
untold dangers and hardships. But, boys, I'm done. 
Good bye. 

j^ sT jt 5^ 5r 
IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 



A LONESOME RIDE. 

SAID the Old Doctor, raking his usual seat: 
Just after the war, when I was practicing 
medicine at Jackson, the capital of Missis- 
sippi, the home of my earlier days, I was requested 
by letter to go to one of the extreme eastern coun- 
ties to see a case with a view to a surgical operation. 
The eastern counties are, as I once told you, for 
the most part, piney woods, heavy sandy lands, no 
soil to speak of, except here and there where a creek 
or "branch" meanders through. These little creek 
bottoms, as they are called, afford at intervals little 
patches of tillable soil, and you will come across, at 
long intervals, a cabin, with its household of white 
headed children, and a yellow dog, — or a blue one, 
most likely; and near by, a small clearing, fenced 
in by brush, interwoven so as to even turn a rabbit, 
in which enclosure you will see a little crop of 
217 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

stunted yellow corn, or a patch of bumble-bee cot- 
ton . 

''What is 'bumble-bee' cotton. Doctor?" said 
Hudson. 

You are a green}^, shonuff . Dan'els knows. It's 
cotton that a bumble-bee can suck the top blossoms 
standing flat footed on the ground, said the Old 
Doctor, nearly strangling, — he laughed so hard at 
Hudson's unsophistication, and presently resumed 
his narrative. 

The country is, of course, very sparsely settled 
off of the line of railroad, and mostly by the poorer 
classes, — "tackeys," "po' white trash," the negroes 
call them. Now and then there is a more preten- 
tious farm, and a fairly well to do family ; such an 
one as I was now on my way to visit. The stretches 
of pine trees and sand are interminable, and some- 
times in a day's ride you will not see a living soul 
nor a sign of habitation ; and they do say that when 
a jay bird, or a crow, has occasion to fly over, say, — 
Jasper county, for instance, if he is an experienced 
traveler or a close observer of events, or if he takes 
the papers, he always carries along a little sack of 
shelled corn. 

In that section of country they have two or three 
names for a postoffice settlement; for instance, 
Damascus the natives call "Sebastopol" ; Fairfield 
is "Bueksnort," etc. This I learned on the trip, as 
I will presently tell you. 

Arriving at the nearest railroad station, I hired 
218 



IN THi<: LAND OF THP: BLUE DOG. 

a double team, and getting my directions to Mr. 
Garrett's, near Damascus, I lit out for a thirty- 
mile ride, all by my lonesome. It was early fall; a 
gloomy day; the skies were overcast, and the pines 
were soughing, as they do at the approach of rain. 
Oh, it's the lonesomest feeling imaginable. I rode 
and rode, mile after mile, through an unbroken 
monotony of those stately columns of long leaf pine 
and sand. N'ot a living thing did I see except a 
buzzard, and he had evidently neglected to carry 
the essential bag of corn, and had fallen exhausted 
by the roadside before he had crossed the desert. 

By-and-bye, away towards sunset, my eyes were 
gladdened by the sight of a clearing. There was 
the little patch of yellow stunted corn, burnt up by 
the drought and the sun, and a little patch of bum- 
ble-bee cotton, and a rank growth of gourd vines on 
the fence of what had evidently been attempted for 
a vegetable garden and abandoned in despair. 
There had been a rail fence around the house once, 
but it was down and scattered ; the yard was littered 
with paper and trash, and the house, which was a 
one-room log cabin, with a dirt-and-stick chimney, 
was closed, and looked deserted. The lethean still- 
ness, stirred, — not broken, — by the funeral sough- 
ing and sighing of the pines, dying away in the 
bosom of the interminable forest, like the wail of 
some lost spirit, was only accentuated by the rap- 
ping of a red-headed woodpecker on the sonorous 
boards of the gable. My heart sank within me. I 
219 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

thought I'd make one effort, any way ; so I hailed : 

"Hello V 

No reply. 

^^Hello ! !" said I, louder. 

Thereupon a blue and white hound dog, of the 
flop-eared species, crawled out from under the 
cabin, and putting all four feet together, humped 
his back, — gaped, — protruding a long, pointed 
tongue, turned up at the end like a hook, yawned, 
thus giving himself a good stretch, lazily remarked : 

"Brew-er-er-er-erh V^ — something between a howl 
and a bark, curling it up at the end with a rising 
inflection on the last syllable. 

"Hello ! !" said I again, louder. 

The door opened, and a strapping girl of about 
sixteen, perhaps, bare legged to the knees, — bare 
footed, — with a dirty homespun dress on, came out 
on the porch, her yellow hair, cut off square all 
around, falling loosely on her neck. 

"Can you tell me how far it is to Damascus, 
please ?" said I. 

''Wh-wli-i-c-hr' said she. 

"How far is it to Damascus, please ?" 

"I kin tell you how far it is to the p-o-o-o-1?" 
she said, turning the "pool" up at the far end. 

"What pool is it you are speaking of. Miss?" 
said I. 

"They call it the sei^aster-p-o-o-1," said she.. 

"Well, how far is it to Sebastopol, then ?" said I, 
jumping at the conclusion that Sebastopol was the 
220 




^^-> 




IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 

home name of Damascus, my place of destination. 

"Hits about /o'miles/' said the girl. "You jes 
git inter ther road again, and keep on twell you git 
to ther top of ther hill, and then you jes keep on 
twell you git to ther bottom of ther hill, and then 
you cross ther creek, and then you keep ther 
straight pool road twell you git thar." 

"Thank you, Miss,^' said I, and I drove on. 

"Bre-w-er-er-erh !'^ howled the blue dog, and 
crawled back under the cabin, grumbling at having 
had his nap interrupted. 

I had gone not over three quarters of a mile, I 
think, when I came to a log blacksmith^s shop on 
the side of the road, and a plank cabin about 10x12 
feet, — a country "store,^^ — closed. The smith was 
sitting in his door, smoking a corn cob pipe, and 
looking very lonely, and well he might, — for of all 
the Grod-forsaken, desolate wildernesses I ever saw, 
that was the worst. It was near night, and a white 
hen and a red rooster had already retired for the 
night on the end of a broken wagon, while two lean 
shoats were quarreling over the warm side of a litter 
pile against the end of the store. I said : 

"My friend, can you tell me how much farther 
it is to Sebastopol ?" 

"This is hit," said the man, without rising, or 
taking his pipe from his mouth. 

"F/tic/fcis^it'?"saidI. 

"This," he said. 

"Meaning ?" I said, glancing around, 

221 




'Tins is hit. 



IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 

"Yes; this shop and that store; that's Ratliff's; 
he's got the chillunfever; hits the postoffice^ too," 
said the man^ with, I thought, a show of local pride. 

Eejoiced that I was so near the end of my jour- 
ney, I dismounted, stretched my legs, and made 
inquiry how to reach Mr. Garratt's, — and in a lit- 
tle while was safely beneath that gentleman's hos- 
pitable roof. 

* Hs H^ H! 

On another occasion Dr. Bob Horner, a class- 
mate of mine, practicing at one of the railroad sta- 
tions in east Mississippi, sent for me to meet him 
at his place and go with him in consultation to see 
a surgical case in the interior. You know I had 
come out of the war with a considerable reputation 
with the home folks of Mississippi, as a surgeon, 
and Bob thought a good deal of my attainments, 
anyhow. Arrived at the station at an early hour 
I was met by Dr. Bob with his spanking double 
team^ and everything in readiness for the trip and 
the proposed operation. 

We had to go about thirty miles, an all day ride. 
Driving is tedious in that heavy white sand, and 
there are the same monotonous, interminable 
stretches of long leaf pine. We had talked out, 
having kept up a pretty lively chatter up to and 
including our noon rest and lunch. The lunch 
consisted of two cans of cove oysters, two bottles 
of ale, and some crackers. 

At noon we unhitched our team by a clear little 
223 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A R^BEL SURGEON. 

stream that crossed the road, — gave the horses 
some feed, and let them drink. Before opening up 
our lunch, Dr. Bob said: 

"Hold on a moment. Doctor; there^s white perch 
in this creek, and 1^11 catch some for our dinner." 

I didn't argue the question with him ; I supposed 
he knew what he was talking about. So Bob rigged 
up a line and hook which he took out of his 
clothes somewhere, and turning over a log secured 
some beetles or other bugs for bait, and going a 
little way up the creek, was soon angling for perch, 
while I was making a fire, as he had requested me 
to do. 

He was gone not over fifteen minutes, I should 
say, when he returned, holding up for my inspec- 
tion, four beautiful speckled perch, each about ten 
inches long. They were the prettiest fish I ever 
saw, tho' I was accustomed to what they call white 
perch at Jackson. These were silver white, mottled 
with purplish blotches, and as the little stream was 
as clear as crystal and as cold as ice, you may imag- 
ine they were a delicate morsel. I said : 

"How are you going to cook them. Bob ?" 

"Watch me,'' he said. 

Eaking away the sand in a clear nice place, he 
put some coals in the opening. Killing the fish 
by a blow on the back of the head, and opening 
them, removing the gills and entrails, and sprink- 
ling on them some salt, which he produced from a 
paper taken from his vest pocket, he wrapped the 
224 



IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 

fish in several thicknesses of newspaper, and thor- 
oughly soaked the paper in the creek ; then he laid 
them on the coals, and covered them with hot ashes 
and coals on top of that. "When the paper burns 
they are done/' said Bob. 

Meantime he had taken out the lunch, and 
spreading the lap robe on the ground for a table 
cloth, we spread our feast; and I tell you now I 
never, in my life, tasted anything that met my 
demands better than those white perch Bob roasted 
in the ashes. 

We resumed our journey, and by four o'clock 
the horses were much jaded, and we had to take it 
slowly. We had soon relapsed into silence, each 
one busy with his own thoughts; it was awfully 
^'iDore-ous." 

Presently, at the bottom of one of those long red 
hills that characterize a portion of that section, 
tho', for the most part the land is level, we came 
upon a covered wagon, drawn by two lean ponies, 
and filled with white headed children. Under the 
wagon a tar bucket hung loosely, and by it was tied 
a blue dog, of the genus "hound." Out by the 
roadside lay a larger, yellow and white dog, — dead. 
An old man with long gray beard was standing by, 
doing nothin' but lookin' sorry ; a typical specimen 
of the "mover" class, or, as Dr. Willis King in 
"Stories of a Country Doctor," calls them, ^^ranch 
Waaler men." The old man had evidently just 
dragged the dog there and left him. By the man 
225 







'Doin' notJiin' but lookin' sorry." 



IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 

stood a tow-headed boy in butternut dyed jeans 
pants, a coarse cotton shirt, and gallusses of striped 
bed ticking, with his hands stuck in his pockets up 
to his elbows, for it was a little coolish. 

The scene was so desolate, the old man looked so 
sad, I thought to say a cheering word, and perhaps 
get him into conversation ; I didn^t, of course, know 
what killed the dog; so, in the absence of anything 
better to begin with, I sung out, cheerily: 

"My friend, did your dog die?" 

He looked at me sorter sideways for about a 
minit: — "I reckin so, by G — d, — he^s dead," said 
he with a scowl, and a look as if he^d like to cut my 
throat for a darned fool. 

Dr. Bob knocked me on the back and just "ha, — 
ha'd." "A good one on you, Doctor," he said; 
"Now, dont you wish you hadn't said anything ?" 

"I do, indeed," said I, much disgusted. 

Bob said that class resent anything of the kind, 
and that it is best to speak to them when spoken 
to. I told him that I had just been told as much 
by the "other fellow." 

Bob called my attention to the fact, — he says it 
is a fact, that this class is as much characterized 
by the blue dog as the negro is by the "yaller" dog ; 
and that the blue dog is found nowhere else than 
in the piney woods among the "poor folks," as they 
are universally called by the darkies. 

But Dr. Bob's time came soon, said the Old Doc- 
tor. Just before dark, — the chickens were flying 
227 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

up, — we came in front of a nice white house, a Mr. 
Gregory's, a |)retfcy well to do farmer. The house 
sits back from the road some little distance, in a 
pretty lawn, surrounded by a neat white fence, — 
evidences everywhere of thrift, contrasting strik- 
ingly with the absence of it almost everywhere else, 
and with the desolateness of the surroundings gen- 
erally. Bob said: 

"Here, Doctor, hold the reins; I've got to give 
these horses some water ; they look fagged out, and 
we have eight miles to go yet." 

Just then a great big black dog, a fierce looking 
fellow, got up and gave a low growl. 

"Fm awfully afraid to go in there ; that's a ter- 
rible dog. I know this country from one end to the , 
other, and I've heard of Dave Gregory's dog." 

"Here, bo}^," said the doctor to a lad standing 
near the dog. "If you'll hold that dog till I get 
two buckets of water, I'll give you a quarter." 

"All right," said the boy, and he seized the dog 
around the neck. "Come ahead," said he, "I'll 
hold him," and he pushed the dog to the ground, 
and with his arm around him, laid down on top of 
him. 

The doctor, taking the bucket from the foot of 
the buggy in one hand, and the heavy driving whip 
in the other, holding it by the small end, ready to 
use it as a club if necessary for defense, went cau- 
tiously in, circling around the dog, and keeping a 
sharp eye on him. 

228 



IN THE LAND OF THE BLUE DOG. 

He got the water and watered both horses; and 
just before getting into the buggy, said : 

"Boy, — dont turn that dog loose till we get 
started, — and here's your quarter on the gate post." 

"All right," said the boy; "down, sir" (to the 
dog). 

As Bob got into the buggy and took hold of the 
reins, he said : 

"That's a pretty savage dog, aint he Bud?" 

"He uster &e," said the boy. 

"Use to be?" said the doctor; "aint he bad now? 
Wont he bite?" 

"Bite nothin'," said the boy, pocketing the quar- 
ter. "He's b-b-b-b-blind, and so old his teefs is 
all dropped out." 

"One on you, now. Doc," said I. "Dont you wish 
you had your quarter back?" 
229 




RECOLLECTIONS OF A EEBEL SURGEON. 



JIMMIE WAS ALL RIGHT. 



IN MY neighborhood, said the Old Doctor^ lazily 
throwing one leg over the other, and borrow- 
ing a chew of tobacco from Hudson, the only 
one of the Journal staff that uses it that way, there 
was a nasty little cock-eyed bricklayer named 
Lynch. He was a "Hinglishman/' he said, from 
" ^\rrowgate.'^ His wife was a pretty decent sort 
of a feller ; but he was too mean to eat enough. 

He had a way of coming over to the drug store, 
— I had a drug store then, — and asking Bob, the 
clerk, what was "good for" so and so. He never 
sent for me in his life, and never bought over ten 
cents worth of anything in the drug store. His 
big '^Tiolt," as he said, was "Seen-na" and salts. 
Jimmie, his son, was down with chill and fever, 
and he was giving him calomel, and about three 
grains of quinine a day, — he was too mean to buy 
enough, — and Jimmie got no better, fast. About 
the fourth chill Jimmie had, they gave in, and sent 
for me. T prescribed enough quinine, and pre- 
vented the paroxysm. At my next visit I found 
him well, and I accordingly said: 

"Jimmie's all right now; he can get up tomor- 
row.'^ 

"Yes, Jimmie' s all right," said his mother; "I 
knowed that last doste of calamy I gi' him would 
set Jimmie all right." 

230 



CIRCUMSTANCES ALTEE CASES. 

T went out and kicked myself, said the Old Doc- 
tor. 

»K ^ »i' ^ 

Lynch had a dog and wouldn't feed him. The 
dog, thrown on his own resources for a living, used 
to go hunting for young rabbits, which, in summer, 
were plentiful even on the outskirts of town. 
Lynch saw him with a rabbit one day, and toolc it 
away from him. Fact ! Talk about mean men, — 
and the Doctor looked just too disgusted for any- 
thing. 



^ 



CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. 



ANY PORT IN A STORM. 

AFTEE the surrender, you know, the South 
was garrisoned with negro troops, said Our 
Fat Philosopher, seating himself, and with 
a reminiscent, far-away expression on his usually 
jolly phiz. It was exceedingly offensive and hu- 
miliating to the people, and was very bad judgment 
on the part of the authorities, — if it was their de- 
sire to have peace and kindly feeling; for it often 
provoked clashes that should have been avoided. 
At Jackson, my bo3^hood home, the negro sol- 
231 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

diers of the garrison committed many depreda- 
tions ; stole fruity hogs, poultry ; anything they took 
a fancy to or needed, and it was winked at by the 
officers, white men tho' they were. They were very 
insolent, also, to the "conquored rebels,^' as they 
contemptuously stigmatized the whites. No use to 
appeal to the commandant; there was no redress. 
So, citizens now and then got into very serious 
trouble by taking matters in their own hands. You 
all may remember that Colonel Ed Yerger of Jack- 
son, was so outraged because the commandant at 
that post, in his absence, sent and seized Mrs. Yer- 
ger's piano, because the colonel had not paid his 
share of the tax levied by the commandant for street 
improvement or something, that on meeting him on 
the street Yerger stabbed him to death. It was 
Colonel Crane, I think his name was. 

But, well, I^m off; Colonel Fleet Cooper, the 
editor of the Jackson paper at that time; — no, he 
wasn^t a shonuff "colonel,^' you know. In the South 
all editors are "Colonels,^' you know, — saw some 
negro soldiers in his orchard, and shot at them, 
but without injury. I think it was birdshot, and 
was only done to scare them. 

He was roughly seized and hurried into town 
(he lived in the suburbs), and taken to the lock-up. 
He was roughly handled; unnecessarily so, for he 
made no resistance, — and was even beat over the 
head. They were in such a hurry to get him locked 
up that they wouldn't even give him time to get his 
232 



CIKCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. 

hat. I can see the crowd now, rushing, almost 
dragging him through the streets approaching the 
center of town, bare headed, in the broiling hot July 
sun, his poor old bald head glistening in the sun 
like burnished brass as they hurried him along to 
the jail. It created a good deal of excitement. But 
what could the people do? Disarmed, subjugated, 
had taken the oath, — entirely at the disposal of a 
provost marshal. Nothing. But they talked. 
They could express their indignation in impotent 
cuss words; that was all. 

That night in the lobby of the hotel there was 
quite a crowd collected, and they were discussing 
the outrage. On the outskirts of the crowd there 
was a stranger, — a man in a long linen duster and 
a black slouch hat pulled well over his eyes. He 
had the appearance of having been riding, and had 
just arrived, dusty and untidy. His presence did 
not attract attention, because at that time there was 
a great deal of traveling, and there were a great 
many strangers coming and going. 

In the crowd was an old citizen-farmer, an old 
toothless feller, well known thereabout, named 
Major Lanier, — why "Major," I dont know. He 
was too old to have been in the army or to have 
taken any part in the war. His nose and chin were 
about to meet over the remains of a mouth, now 
shrunken and flabby. He was particularly indig- 
nant. 

"Served 'em right ! Served 'em right ! — the 
233 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

black scoundrels," said tKe major, emphasizing his 
words with a thump on the floor with his big stick. 
"No business stealin' Colonel Cooper's apples. I 
wish he'd a'killed all of 'em. Served 'em right, 
says I." 

The stranger, whom no one had noticed particu- 
larly before, stepped up to him, and opening his 
dust-coat and throwing it back revealed the chev- 
rons on his collar, — it was the colonel commanding 
the garrison of negro soldiers, — said : 

"You damned old rebel scoundrel, — you say it 
is right to shoot a union soldier for taking a few 
green apples ?" 

^^as they green? Was they green f^ quickly 
exclaimed the old major, who was terribly fright- 
ened and began to tremble and to apologize. "Oh, 
no ; not if they was green. I wouldn't shoot a sol- 
dier for taking a few green apples. No, I thought 
they was ripe. No, — not if they wasn't ripe. No ; 

I wouldn't if they was green ." And he backed 

out of the crowd still mumbling his disclaimer 
amidst shouts of laughter. A close call, but the 
major thought "any port in a storm." 
234 



Sir 



UNCLE HARDY MULLINS. 



UNCLE HARDY MULLINS; OR, THE 
WAYS OF PROVIDENCE. 



UNCLE Hardy Mullins? Did I promise to 
tell you about him ? said our ever welcome 
Fat Philosopher this bright morning. So 
I did. 

"Reverend Hardy Mullins/' or "Uncle Hardy 
Mullins/' as he was universally called, had been 
raised in the piney woods of Mississippi, the be- 
nighted section of sand, blue dogs, white headed 
children and "po folks,^^ as the negroes called the 
whites of that section. He had been "called to 
preach," a sort of superstitious belief still held by 
certain people. You all know how it is, — "called," 
— well, — by "a voice in the air," — or, somevjhere, 
or, as Dr. Willis King says of Joe's excuse to the 
teacher, — "hit mougJiter been a boss a 'nickerin'." 

Uncle Hardy was about 75 years old, — totally 
illiterate, but he had been preaching so long he 
knew the Bible almost by heart, but was not able 
to locate any quotation. He used to say: "You'll 
find my text betwixt the leds of the book." He 
looked like one of the Patriarchs mentioned in the 
^^ook," his long white beard reaching nearly to 
his waistband. Of course, he was itinerant ; hadn't 
charge of any fixed "work" or congregation, hence 
he preached mostly in the country, amongst people 
for the most part as untaught as himself. 
235 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Just after the war, preaching in the little log 
school house to the neighbors over in Eankin 
county, across the river from Jackson, he said on 
the occasion when I had the privilege of hearing 
him: 

"My brethren, all things happens for the best. 
That's been my doctrin' and my belief all my life. 
Hits recorded in the scripters that to him as has 
faith, all things happens for the best in God's good 
time. I have faith. I b'leve everything happens 
for the best; I will b'leve it; I must b'leve it, be- 
cause the good book says so. But, my Christian 
friends, we has our trials and our temptations, — 
our hours of unbelief, and I has mine, and I pray, 
"Oh, Lord, help my unbelief," and he hears me. 
Sometimes hits mighty hard to b'leve. When we 
loses a child, or a friend, for instance, hits mighty 
hard fur to b'leve that hits for the best, 'spec'ly 
when ef hits a man he leaves a pore lone widder 
'ooman and six little orphan children, but God 
knows best, and we must bow to His will. 

"Now, I come home from the army after the 
break-up, and my little house was burnt; all the 
fences burnt ; my two mules stolen, and nothin' on 
this green yerth left me 'cept a blue sow; — and 
hy the grace of the Lord, she pigged in the spring, 
— givin' me a show for my meat in the fall, and the 
mule I rid all endurin' of the war where I was 
chapling to Captain Carr's comp'ny. 

"But I took heart. I got the nabers to jine in, 
236 



UNCLE HARDY MULLINS. 

and we put up a little log house. I horrid a plow, 
and with that one pore so' back mule, I broke up 
a little patch for cawn. The cawn was up and in 
the tassel, and needed one more plowin' to lay it 
by. Hit was promisin'; and with my growin' 
shoats I thought to stave off starvation for a while 
longer, and I was puttin' my trust in Providence, 
when what should happen but some of them nigger 
sogers from the garrison over thar (pointing with 
his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of 
Jackson), jes' stole my mule, and killed and car- 
ried off the l-a-s-t one of my shoats, not even 
sparin' the old blue sow." 

Here the old fellow paused and "wiped away a 
tear" ; and leaning over the pulpit, said, with emo- 
tion: 

"Now, brethren and sistern : That may have all 
been for the best, — but I'll jest be everlastin'ly 
durned my old buttons if I can see it !" 
237 



*Xf fXf ^ 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



THE LITTLE HU-GAG, AND THE GREAT 
AMERICAN PHIL-LI-LIEa 



AMONGST the renters on my place just after 
the war, said the Old Doctor, for yon 
must know that at the break-up when we 
came home from the war we were all dead broke; 
and those who had once owned cotton plantations 
and slaves and mules, etc., found themselves pos- 
sessed of nothing on this earth but barren land. 
Houses burned, slaves freed, fences destroyed, 
mules stolen or taken for the army, by one side or 
the other. Well, we had to do something, or starve. 
I put up a dozen or more log cabins and rented 
twenty or more acres to small white farmers (noi 
that the farmers were small, but they farmed on a 
small scale) . They were of the class of people who, 
before the war lived in the poor, piney woods por- 
tion of the State; a class who never owned any 
slaves, and for whom the negroes, slaves as they 
were, entertained a cordial contempt. '"Poor white 
trash," they called them. Well, as I started to say : 
Amongst those who rented from me and occupied 
my tenant houses, was a family named Parsons. 
The family consisted of the father, mother and 
two cubs, — boys about 14 and 16 years of age. No 
use trying to describe them; you fellers must be 
familiar with the "cracker'^ or "tackey" type of 
Southern people, especially common in Georgia. 
238 



THE LITTLE HU-GAG. 

The two boys were good workers, and were in the 
field soon and late, and made good crops. But 
their daddy, — the "old man/' — he was not old; — 
but, do you know, the women of that class always 
call their husband "old man," — even tho' he may 
be 20, and vice versa, — he calls her "old 'ooman," 
— he was the apotheosis of laziness. He was too 
lazy to stop eating when once under good headway 
(provided the grub didn't give out). He rarely 
ever got to the field till near knocking-oif time for 
dinner at noon, on one excuse and another. 

I remember one spring morning when corn was 
growing, and then was the time, or never, to work 
it to insure a crop, Tom and Bill were in the 
field and had been since daylight. Parsons hung 
around the steps of our back porch, where Eobert 
and I and some others were sitting smoking and 
talking, — telling of what he had seen and done 
in Georgia, an inexhaustible subject with him. 
There was nothing, anywhere, and never had been, 
except in Greorgia, — "Jawjie," he pronounced it. 
Why, sirs, he even declared that in "Jawjie'' post- 
age stamps were larger, "purtier," — would last 
longer and carry a letter farther than elsewhere on 
earth, and that moreover they didn't cost over half 
as much as they did in Mississippi. He yawned, 
and looking up at the sun, — by now nearly over- 
head, — said : 

"Gee, — I didn't know it was so late. I have made 
239 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

arrangements to borry some meal for dinner, and 
I guess 1^11 be gettin' to the field/' 

He was the most intolerable brag. N'othing you 
could relate but he could cap it with something he 
had seen in "Jawjie." 

One afternoon in summer, after crops had been 
"laid by/' and the men had some leisure. Parsons 
and several others of the tenants were gathered 
around the back steps of my house talking to Eob- 
ert and John, when I came up with my gun from 
a ride to see a neighbor's sick child. I didn't take 
my gun to see the sick child, you understand, — I 
see you smirking, — but thinking I might shoot 
some squirrels on the road, as it lay through some 
hickory and oak timber, and nuts were getting big 
enough for them to sample. As I dismounted and 
approached the group. Parsons said : 

"Didn't see nothin' to shoot at ; eh. Doc ?" 

"No," said I, — "nothing but a miserable little 
hu-gag, and I wouldn't shoot him," — looking at 
John and Eobert with a wink. 

"A hu-gag?" said Parsons; "I reckin' we call it 
by a different name in Jawjie; what sort of a thing 
was it you saw?" 

"Why," said I, — "dont you know what a hu-gag 
is? You must have seen many a one." 

"Of course I have," said Parsons, — ^^ut I dont 
know it by that name." 

"It's a small gray animal ." 

Parsons nodded his head : 
240 



THE LITTLE HU-GAG. 

"Just so," he said. 

" with sharp ears like a fox/' — continued I, 

he interrupting me, giving assent to each item as 
I progressed; "Oomph-hno" (a very common form 
of assent in the South, unspellable, but you all 
know what it means, said the Old Doctor, aside), 
"Oomph-hno," said Parsons, "the same thing, ex- 
actly." 

" Hind legs a little longer than front legs," 

said I, "and '' 



"Exactly," said Parsons, — "same thing; plenty 

of them in Jawjie, only larger " 

" dark stripe running down his back to his 



tail," said I. 

"Same thing," said Parsons, — "we call 'em- 



" short stump tail,'' I continued, Parsons 

nodding assent to everything, and much interested. 

" with a little brass knob on the end," — said 

I, with perfect gravity. 

"Eh? eh?" said Parsons, caught in the act of 
nodding assent; and you ought to have seen how 
cheap and sheepish he looked, and how he slunk off, 
while the boys just hollered. 

And here the Old Doctor laughed his good 
natured chuckle. 

5fS * * * 

Another time, said the Old Doctor, Parsons and 

a lot of the farm hands, tenants, — were lying on 

the grass late one afternoon in summer as I came 

up again with my gun, — for, understand, I was a 

241 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

• 

scandalous rifle shot, as the niggers say, — and al- 
ways toted my squirrel rifle when I went to see 
patients in the immediate neighborhood. I glanced 
at Eobert, who knew that something was coming. 
I said : 

^^Robert, — oyer there back of Waller's corn field, 
in that ravine, you know, where the niggers say 
"sperits" live, I saw the darndest animal I ever saw 
in my life. (I wouldn't look at Parsons, for fear 
of a "give away.") "I described it to old Dixon, 
and he knows it all, you know, to hear him tell it. 
He said he had never seen one, — did not know 
there were any in this country; thought they be- 
longed to a mountainous country ; but from my de- 
scription, he said, he had no doubt that it was the 
Great American Phil-Zi-lieu." 

"What sort of a looking thing was it?" asked 
one of the men. 

(Parsons was lying on his side, propped up oq 
one elbow, chewing the end of a straw, and trying 
to look indifferent.) 

"It was just the queerest looking thing imagin- 
able," said I. "It had a great thick-set head like a 
boar, — bristles on its back; — was a dark brown 
color, and about the size of a rabbit; — and the 
strangest part of it was, — that it had two short legs 
on one side and two long legs on the other, ^espec- 
ially adapted,' Mr. Dixon said, ^for running around 
the side of a hill' ; and Dixon says the only way it 
can be caught, being very fleet of foot, is to head 
242 



THE DOCTOR SEES A LADY HOME. 

him off, — turn him back, thus causing his lon_2,' 
legs to be up-hill, and his short legs down hill, 
when^ unable to run, he just rolls down to the bot- 
tom of the hill and is easily caught." 

"Ever see one, Parsons?" said one of the men. 
"Got any of ^em in Jawjie?" 

Parsons yawned and stretched himself, — and 
with as much unconcern as he could assume, said: 

"Never seen but one, and hit was a young one." 

5«^ sr 9?- or 9?r *sr 
ja ^ j» M » 

THE DOCTOR SEES A LADY HOME, 



ADOCTOE has a heap of funny experiences, 
said the Old Doctor, but some doctors are 
so solemn 'that they have no sense of fun, 
and some are so darned pious, — or stupid, — which ? 
that they cannot see the point of a joke. The best 
of them dont always appreciate a joke on them- 
selves ; it requires something of a philosopher to do 
that; eh, Dan'els? 

I was thinking of a good joke on myself that 
occurred in my dandy days, when I was a consider- 
able of a "s'ciety man" ; when I used to put grease 
on my hair, and wear kid gloves and pretty neck- 
ties with a pin stuck in 'em, and visit the girls. 
Why, I used to dance, even, — the round dances — . 
243 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

Now, look a'here, you fellers. I see it on your 
faces that you dont believe it. Because I am so fat 
now, you needn't think I was always clumsy. Why, 
once I was nearly as skinny as Dan'els, — and here 
the Doctor shook all over with merriment at the 
contemplation of such an absurd possibility; — and 
they do sa}^, he continued, that Dan'els was so slim, 
that at the San Antonio meeting of the State Med- 
ical Society, a dog followed him around all day, 
thinking he was a bone. And here the old fellow 
just made the furniture rattle, he shook so, and his 
face was so red I thought he was going to have 
apoplexy. 

Kt that meeting, he resumed (the fellers told it 
on him), a country man asked Dan'els if he had 
ever had the dropsy? Dan'els was indignant, and 
said: 

"No; what on earth makes you ask such a ques- 
tion?" 

"I didn't know," said the feller, "and I was jest 
a reflectin' that if jovl had, you was the hest cured 
case I ever saw; and I've got a sister what's got the 
dropsy, and I was a'goin' to ask you to recommend 
me to your doctor." 

You bet he lit out when he saw that Dan'els was 
mad. But I've got off the track again; where was 
I at? 

Oh, yes. I was a very considerable of a beau at 
that period. I attended receptions, and went with 
"the best society"; went everywhere; — picnics, 
244 



THE DOCTOR SEES A LADY HOME. 

boat sailing, etc.; even took buggy rides with the 
girls. 1 was a young widower, — and they do say 
that a widower in love is just the biggest fool on 
earth. N"ow, I wasn't in love, I want you to under- 
stand; but I was just sorter "lookin' around," as 
Tim Crane said to Mrs. Bedott. I went to church, 
— always; the fashionable church. It was in Gal- 
veston, directly after the war. Coming out of 
church one bright sunny Sunday morning, with a 
sharp eye on the alert for pretty girls, I saw a pair 
of bright black eyes looking through the most pro- 
voking veil, as presently a neat figure, clad in nice 
silk dress with all the trimmin's, — parasol, gloves, 
— stepped up by my side and said: 

"Good morning. Doctor.*' 

I said : "Good morning, Miss er — rer," — not rec- 
ognizing her, but I didn't, of course, want her, to 
see that I didn't; so I pretended to know her. My 
first impression was that it was Miss Fannie Blank, 
whom I had met at a dance the night before, and 
who had impressed me so favorably that I had 
mentally determined to cultivate her acquaintance. 
So, I thought, what a lucky chance to make a be- 
ginning! I said: 

"Allow me to see you home." (That was the 
"conventionality," the correct thing, at that day.) 

"Certainly," she said, and seemed much pleased 

at the prospect. All the while I had been trying to 

get a good look at her face, but on account of that 

confounded veil I couldn't see anything but a pair 

245 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

of very black eyes; couldn't, as the doctors say, 
make a diagnosis. 

We chatted along indifferently, — I keeping on 
safe ground, and feeling for light, till we had 
reached the corner where I knew Miss Fanny should 
turn off; but this one didn't turn off; she kept 
straight ahead. By-and-bye, talk ran out. I was 
gettin' mighty scarce of something to say. I said 
to myself: "Well, now; here's a pretty situation. 
A practicing physician, — a college professor at that 
(I was at that time professor of anatomy in the 
Texas Medical College), and a lady's man, — a 
society high-flyer, walking home from church with 
a black-eyed woman whom he cant diagnose." But 
I had to keep up appearances that I knew her and 
was perfectly at home, you understand. (I wished 
I had been, literally, at home.) But I was never- 
theless hard up for something to say. Observing 
for the first time that she was accompanied by a 
little girl of about 13 years of age, rather cheaply 
but cleanly dressed, it is true, I said : 

"Bye-the-bye, — who is this little ^irl with you? 
I really do not recognize her?" (I thought her 
answer would perhaps give me a cue.) 

'"Why, — that's Maggie," said the black-eyed un- 
known; "dont you know Maggie?" 

"Why,— bless my soul," said I. "So it is Mag- 
gie. How de do, Maggie? You have grotun so, I 
didn't know 3^ou." 

246 



THE DOCTOR SEES A LADY HOME. 

"Why/' said the woman, "you saw her vester- 
day." 

Thus trapped I didn't know what to say, so, 
said nothing, but kept up a mighty sight of think- 
in'; reflecting what a good joke was then goin' on 
on a stuck-up feller about my size. 

Presently she said something about her husband. 
"Heaven and earth," I mentally ejaculated; "worse 
and worse. Walking home from church with a 
strange woman, married at that, whose husband, 
when I get there, may not be fond of jokes; may 
not like it a little bit"; but, catching at anything 
to relieve me of the Maggie faux pas, I said, cheer- 
ily: 

"By-the-bye, where is your good husband? I 
have not seen him for some time?" 

"Oh, — he's dead, you know," reproachfully re- 
sponded the unknown. 

"No !" said I ; "surely not dead'? I hadn't heard 
of it; I'm very sorry — ." 

"Why, Doctor, you attended him; dont you re- 
member ? Only a short while ago. He died of yel- 
low fever on his lumber schooner," replied she. 

"My stars," I said to myself." "Here am I, — a 
fashionable high-stepping society swell, a tony phy- 
sician, and a college professor (for I was a stuck- 
up fool, sure enough), walking home with a black- 
eyed woman, a widow at that, whose husband was 
in the lumber trade and died on a schooner ! My ! 
what a joke if Miss Fanny and Miss Bessie and my 
247 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

runnin' mates amongst the society fellers should 
ever get hold of it/^ 

But I was determined to see it out. 

By this time we had arrived at a part of the city 
rather disreputable; — straggling shanties and poor 
folks, down towards the bay shore, and I was 
utterly bewildered, so much so that I didn^t recog- 
nize her even then. So, opening a dilapidated gate, 
and kicking a yellow dog out of the path, the 
woman said: 

'^ont you come in, Doctor?" 

"Come in? Why, of course, I^d come in. I 
wanted to see her take that confounded veil off. 
Bless your souls, boys, it was my washer woman! 
Fact. And Maggie was the little bare-legged gal 
that brought my shirts home of a Saturday even- 
ing. I collapsed. She had to fan me ten minutes 
before I could speak, and she thought it was the 
heat. 

You bet I was the worst crestfallen dude in that 
town, as I slunk home the back way. 

But it was too good to keep, even if it ivas on me^ 
and I told it. How they did rig me, to be sure. 
248 



FINE POINTS IN DIAGNOSIS. 



FINE POINTS IN DIAGNOSIS, 



THE Journal's genial philosopher, who occa- 
sionally illumines the hard worked editor's 
dreary office with his glowing countenance 
and drives away the blue-devils^ dropped in one day 
latety, as fat and jolly as ever. He is kind enough 
to say he has to come in, once a month to "load 
up^'; — ^on what, he does not say; like the cars that 
carry the storage battery, have to go to the dynamo 
for their supply of lightning, we suppose. My pri- 
vate opinion is, he comes to unload, and we are 
always glad to receive the discharge. At any rate 
there is a kind of a mutual admiration existing 
between the office and the Philosopher. 

Without any ceremony the Doctor sat down and 
began, in medias res. 

Hudson, he said (Hudson was closely engaged in 
footing up expense account, to see if he could make 
it come inside of receipts, — I was laboring on a 
manuscript that would have discounted Horace 
Greeley^s worst specimen, — Bennett was writing a 
love letter, — ^^while the office boy was whistling 
"Henrietta, — have you met her," keeping time by 
a tattoo with both hands and both feet). Hudson, 
said the Doctor, I've got a good one on Dan'els, — 
and here he chuckled till the shovel and tongs and 
the other costly office furniture rattled. 

You know Dan'els is a great dermatologist (I 
249 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A QEBEL SURGEON. 

dont think), — got a big reputation for skin dis- 
eases — down at the Wallow, any way. I've got a 
case of skin trouble down there that's pestering me, 
and after I had done for him everything I knew, 
I brought him up here to consult Dan'els. I 
thought it was eczema, and treated it as such; told 
Dan'els I thought so. Well, the patient, — his name 
is Skaggs, — he is a sorry lookin' cuss, — said he had 
scratched till he was paralyzed in both arms. He 
rolled up his sleeves and his britches legs, and Dan- 
'els put on his specs and examined it carefully. — 
asking him some questions. Then he raised up, 
and removing his eye-glasses, — said, impressively, 
and in that grand oracular manner he has, — em- 
phasizing with his forefinger: 

"It's psoriasis, doctor; psoriasis gyrata; — a well 
marked case; a beautiful case. You see, doctor, 
the distinguishing features are, — the uniform ele- 
vated areas of infiltrated tissue, — and the enclosed 
areas of sound skin, — and the uniform redness, — 
and the persistent dryness ; but, more than all, its 
occurrence oiily on the extensor surfaces. Now, 
you see, doctor, this man has it on the extensors of 
arms and legs, and on his back ; — the absence of it 
on the breast and abdomen — ." 

"Here, you," turning to Skaggs, — "Never had 
it on your belly, did you, Skaggs ?" 

"Belly, nothin'," said that individual; "Why, 
Doc, hits all over me; wuss in front than any place 
else." 

250 



ONE ON THOMPSON. 



And here the jolly doctor laughed till the tears 
ran down his cheeks in streams a foot decD. 



sT sT ^ 
ONE ON THOMPSON. 



REMINDS me, said the Doctor, — when he 
could quit shaking, — reminds me of my 
old partner, Thompson, — when we were 
practicing together down at Hog Wallow. He had 
a case of chill and fever that gave him a lot of 
trouble. He had done for it about all that could be 
done, but the chills wouldn't stay broke more'n 
about three weeks. One day we were sitting in the 
office criticising Dan'els' last editorial in the "Eed 
Back," Texas Medical Journal, and Thompson was 
telling about a case he had cured after everybody 
else had given it up, — when in comes his ague case. 

"Well, Doc," says he, with a most woe-begone 
expression; "I had another one of them shakin' 
agers yistiddy." 

"Well, Lorenzo," said Thompson, throwing him- 
self back with an air, and sticking his thumbs in 
the arm holes of his vest, — "I'll tell you what you 
do: You know that big spring down back of your 
house ? The run, you know, always keeps up a big 
251 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A JIEBEL SURGEON. 

damp place there; that's the cause of your chills; 
it's malaria, you know. Now, you plant sunflowers 
all down that spring branch; sunflowers absorb all 
the malaria, you know ; that will break 'em up sure 
pop ; never knew it to fail." 

"Lor, shucks, Doe," said Lorenzo, with a cadav- 
erous smile, — "that spring run's been growed up 
with them sunflowers for four years and more; — 
acres of um." 

"Damn it," said Thompson, — "then cut 'em 
down." 

^ ¥f ^ ilf ^ 
4f 



HALCYON DAYS. 



1SEE by the papers, said our Genial Visitor, that 
today is Commencement Day at the Texas 
Medical College. Dan'els, do you ever think 
of the time when you got your sheep-skin ? To me 
it was one of the most trying ordeals of my life, 
except, perhaps, that time when the yankees killed 
me, and I reckon it's the same with most boys. "In 
the spring time the young man's mind lightly turns 
to thoughts of love," says Tennyson; but the aver- 
age medical student crams on Smith's Compend, 
and prepares for examination. With hesitation, 
252 



HALCYON DAYS. 

trepidation and perspiration, he approaches that 
green baize door which, veiling his future, conceals 
a terror in the shape of a bald-headed professor, in 
whose hands hangs the destiny of many fellers, 
each, not by a thread, .but by a string — of hard 
questions. "Happy they, the happiest of their 
kind," to whom Pat, the janitor, hands a long round 
tin box next day, while with a grin, he suggestively 
protrudes his left hand for the expected fee, never 
less than a Y. 

Who so proud, then, as they, — the fledglings, — 
the new born medicos ? as when next they meet, the 
old, familiar "Tom" and "Harry" are dropped, and 
it's "Good morning. Doctor; accept my Congrats. 
Didn't old Blimber make a fellow sweat ?" 

"Oh, pshaw. Doctor, he was nothing to old Bones 
when he got me on the ligaments. I was up-to- 
date, tho', you bet; crammed. So long, Doctor." 

(Another two) : 

"Ah, good morning, Doctor ; got through, I hear. 
Yes, it was tough. Be on hand tonight, of course, 
with your swallow tail." (Exit.) 

The palpitating part of it had only begun, how- 
ever, in the green room. (How provokingly old 
Bones did grin when he asked them to "give him 
the ligaments of the neck.") All those young M. 
D.'s have to stand the battery of bright eyes tonight 
at the Opera House ; and in that large and fashion- 
able audience, all a-flutter with fans and fur-be- 
lows, every young feller has a bright particular pair 
253 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

of eyes that to him look like the rising sun, as he 
steps out in response to his name to get his sheep- 
skin; while to the owner of said pair of rising-sun 
orbSj that particular name on the program, it may 
even be "Grubs/' — blazes with a holy light, quite 
eclipsing all the others. (And the band played 
Annie Laurie.) 

Then, the first time she calls Harry "Doctor," — 
oh, not for the crown of an Indian prince would he 
exchange that proud title. (We've been there, tho' 
it was in the long, long ago, memory brings back 
the days that are no more.) 

And, at the ball ; and after the ball ; what "med- 
icine," (heart excitants, mostly, I fear), is talked, 
as, arm in arm, each happy couple promenades be- 
neath the vine-clad trellis, or drop the cur- 
tain here; the "sweetness" of that "faithful watch 
dog's honest bark," that Byron tells us about, "bay- 
ing deep mouthed welcome," as, in after years we 
"draw near home," — any rainy dark night, after a 
ten-mile ride for a bare "thankee," is just only 
brown sugar to double distilled saccharine, com- 
pared to the bliss of those moments, spent with 
Dulcinea the first evening he wore his title and his 
pigeon-tailed coat ; as they told and listened 'neath 
the umbrageous shades of those grand old oaks, to 
the old, old tale; it is always the same; told with 
variations often, perhaps, but always the same old 
tale, — and ever new; told with the eyes; for "the 
heart doth speak when the lips move not," — so that 
254 



HALCYON DAYS. 

when flashed from a woman's eyes, even a savage 
can comprehend "two souls with but a single 
thought," etc. Ah, me; would I were a boy again, 
— or, rather, a young doctor, sprouting his first 
mustache. How much medicine we did know at 
that time, good gracious. "The wonder grew,^' 
sure enough with me, that "one small head could 
carry" it. 

I^ow, I'm going to tell you a joke about that same 
head. I havn't got a small head; I've got a big 
head. 

About six years subsequent to the events I'm tell- 
ing about (that is, the occasion on which I received 
my diploma), I was, myself, a professor, and had 
to ask the boys hard questions ; I was "Old Bones" 
myself. One day coming out of the hospital where 
I had just been lecturing, — I had on a new spring 
style hat. One of the students admired it, and 
asked to look at it. I took it off and handed it to 
him. He tried it on, and it came down over his 
ears. The boys laughed at him, and he remarked : 
"Doctor, you have a very large head." 
I said : "Yes, larger than the average, I believe." 
One young scamp looked roguishly out the cor- 
ners of his eyes at me and said, slyly : 
"It's a little swelled, aint it. Doctor?" 
Well, yes; I believe now that it was swelled. I 
can look back at that period of my life, — in fact, at 
most of it, and realize what a fool I was. I do think 
now that it was a mercy that the fool-killer never 
255 



KECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

got me, and sometimes I think it's a pity he didn't. 

But I've digressed. I was saying that in our 
young days we are very conceited, and think we 
know a great deal of medicine. It takes an average 
lifetime to find out that we dont know anything 
worth mentioning, as Dickens said of Mr. Bailey's 
nose ; he had none "worth speaking of." Somehow, 
one's head seems to leak medical knowledge, as the 
bones harden and the sutures close up. Just the 
reverse of what we would expect, — ^but it is a fact. 
I think most doctors of my age will admit it, — the 
older we get the less we know. Crowded out, 
p'raps, to make room for a recollection of our un- 
collected bills (or our unpaid ones), or by family 
cares, and calculations how we are to make a $2 fee 
buy shoes and stockings for the baby, and a new 
bonnet for the dear wife, she of the sunrise eyes of 
long ago. 

Ah, yes; springtime is "commencement"' time; 
and the output of the new issue of (I like to have 
said "green-backs," or "government bonds," so ab- 
sorbed was I in studying out the above financial 
sphynx), the output of the new generation of doc- 
tors is large. I have not kept a memorandum of 
the total, each college is making them by the score, 
out of raw material (very raw, some of it), that 
beyond a doubt, will make the future Sir i^ndrew 
Clark, the S. D. Gross, the Austin Flint and the 
Marion Sims of the next generation. 

To them all: to those who are properly imbued 
256 



HALCYON DAYS. 



with the love of science ; who have chosen medicine 
not as a money-getter alone, I say, — ''aim Ugh." 
What was possible to the poor Southern boy, Sims, 
Wyeth, Nott; or to the lamented Quimby, or Jno. 
B. Hamilton,— a farmer's boy,— is possible to you. 
Do not put away your books now that you have your 
diploma ; you have only graduated, — you have not 
finished,— you have only begun, prepared yourself 
to study and learn. Today is truly your "Com- 
mencement" day. "Drink deep, or touch not the 
Pierian spring.'' Let not alone the sunrise eyes of 
your beloved inspire you; determine to win for her 
a place where in after years, she may not be 
ashamed of her young doctor. "The hill whereon 
Fame's proud temple shines afar" is hard to climb ; 
but it has been cUmbed. What others can do, you 
can do; so, my dear boys (I Ug pardon), dear 
young doctors, — aim high ! 

But after the new has rubbed off ; after a life of 
toil, too often thankless, most often unremunera- 
tive, things look a little different to the doctor, dont 
they, Dan'els? You know; you've been through 
the mill ; so've I. 

Now, by contrast (I've just given you fellers a 
glimpse of the panorama as she spread out at the 
start), ril give you a picture drawn later in life. 
I'm reminded of it by the foregoing reminiscences 
of commencement day. This thing I'm a giving 
you now,— here, Hudson, read this,— was writteii 
by yours truly for a young lady whom I thought a 
257 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 

heap of, one time. She jokingly said that doctors 
"put on" a good deal; that it was all stuS about 
their having a hard time, etc. Just for fun I wrote 
this for her, and my wife got hold of it, and like 
everything else I ever wrote, she, kind, trusting 
soul, thought it was "smart." (Hudson reads) : 

THE DOCTOR^S LAMENT. 

(to his lady love.) 

That's what I called it, said the Old Doctor, 
before Hudson began to read; but it might appro- 
priately be called "Days that wasn't quite so hal- 
cyon," — eh, Dan'els? (Hudson reads) : 

"Your life leads down by peaceful, tranquil rivers 
Whose shady bank the cool sea breeze invites ; 
While mine, — alas, is spent 'midst torpid livers, — 
And similar sad and melancholy sights. 

To you the perfumed air is rich with sounds 

As sweet as when first Sappho's harp was strung; 

While I, in sun and dust must take my weary rounds 
To feel a pulse, or view a coated tongue. 

The choicest books beguile your leisure hours, 

And soothe to sleep, or wake to sympathetic tears; 

But woe is me, — I spend my feeble powers 

'Midst fever's fervid heat, or, checking diarrhoeas. 

You sleep in peace on soft and downy beds. 

And dream, perhaps, of flowers in sun-lit lands; 

While I, no doubt, am soothing aching heads, 
Or humbly giving aid by pulling hands. 

258 



HALCYON DAYS. 



Your lovers kneel before you in rapturous adoration, 
And tales of love in mellifluous measures pour; 

Creditors besiege me;-tliey are my abomination 

And moneyless patients daily throng my office door. 

Thy gentle pen, anon, the choicest thoughts indite 
^ft dwell within thy gentle breast, or tender 
mem'ry fosters; 
Prescriptions, I, with stubby pencil write :- 

'Kecipe: misce et fiat haustus.' 
Riches I bring thee not, to pride's exactions fill, 

Nor offer thee, as I could wish, a handsome marriage 
portion ; 
Wilt thou despise my only store,-a pill. 

Or deign to take, perchance, a pharmaceutical lotion? 

Alas, alas, my lady love, I tire indeed of these 

Oik scaly scalps of seborrhcea and eczematou, hands, 
Let's trim our sails to catch an outward breeze, 

And endosmose in pleasant foreign lands,— 
Away beyond the seas, on some peaceful, st^-rlit isle, 

mere rythmic wavelets break on coral strands. 
There there'll be no more fever, pus nor bile,— 

Ind « the happy years we'll pull each other's 



hands. 

259 



¥f Iff ^ 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. 



THE DOCTOR SEEKS COMFORT IN THE 
BIBLE.— WHAT HE FOUND. 



DANIELS, said our jolly, fat friend, as he 
dropped lazily into our easy chair this 
sultry afternoon, and wheeled himself in 
front of the electric fan, do you ever read the Bible ? 

"Cert," said I, too much overcome by the heat 
of the weather, and the coolness of our visitor, act- 
ing alternately on our sensibilities, to even finish 
the sentence; but added mentally, "what do you 
take us for?"— "Why, Doctor?" 

Oh, nothing, said the Doctor, as he touched the 
button of our electric ^Tiand-em-around," which we 
had recently put in, and helped himself to a twenty- 
five cent Havana, which we keep on hand only for 
paying subscribers; only I was thinkin'. I have 
heard the dear, good, old people say there is a deal 
of comfort in the Bible, — and, recently, I was feel- 
ing very uncomfortable, — in fact, I was sick, and 
thought I was going to die ; I was scared, I reckon, 
and I got down the Bible and began to look for 
comfort; but — here the Doctor sighed, and shut- 
ting his eyes, evidently was deriving comfort from 
the fragrant weed. 

"Didn't you find it ?" I inquired. 

Find nothin\ There was mostly ^l3egittin's" and 
"begots" in the part I read; and there aint much 
comfort in that, — to the other feller, — is there, 
260 



SEEKS COMFORT IN THE BIBLE. 

Daniels? and he chuckled a good natured chuckle 
and went on: 

But I found something there that set me to 
thinking; Daniels, what are mandrakes? 

^^Podophyllum peltatum, commonly called May- 
apple; purgative; — plenty of 'em in Mississippi, 
where you and I came from; ask us something 
hard/' said I, holding up from proof reading a 
moment; "why, Doctor?" 

You are away off about your podophyllum, Dan- 
iels, said he. Mandrakes, in Bible days, at least, 
were something valued very highly, especially by 
the women folks. 

Well, I'll tell you the story, and then you'll see 
what I'm driving at. 

It's the 30th chapter of Genesis. You know 
Jacob got stuck on his uncle's little daughter, 
Eachel, — Miss Rachel Laban, was her name, — and 
made it all right with her, but the old man was 
close at a bargain, and he made Jake serve him, 
'tending cattle, etc., seven years, before he would 
agree to the marriage; and then put up a job on 
him. When the seven years were out, the old man 
shoved the oldest daughter off on him. Miss Leah. 
Of course, Jacob kicked, but the old man savs, says 
he: " 

"Why, Jake, you soft head, — didn't you know 
'twas unlawfvl to give the youngest daughter in 
marriage before the older sister had stepped off? 
Go to." 

261 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A RE^EL SURGEON. 

So, Jake took him at his word, and ivent the two, 
as we will see presently, as it was agreed, if he 
would serve another seven years, he could have 
Eachel also, and it came to pass; in seven years 
more he got the one he was after, and shook Miss 
Leah. 

Meantime, however, Leah had a nice little boy 
named Reuben, and by-and-bye, when Jacob and 
Rachel were dwelling together in bliss and har- 
mony (and a tent, I suppose), and poor Leah, the 
cast-off, was scuffling for a living, with no one to 
help her but little Reube, — something happened 
with mandrakes in it. The Bible records it, and it 
must be so, and it must be very important; that's 
what^s puzzling me. 

In the 14th verse, chapter 30, of Genesis, it says : 

"And at harvest time, in the wheat fields, Reuben 
found some mandrakes, and took them to his 
mother.'' Rachel says : "Give me of thy son's man- 
drakes." Leah says: "Is it no small matter that 
thou hast taken away my husband, that thou 
wouldst take away also now my son's mandrakes ?" 
"Therefore" (there/or, I suppose), he shall lie with 
you tonight," says Rachel. "Done," says Leah. So, 
late that evening, when Leah saw Jacob returning 
from the field, she ran out to meet him, and says, 
says she : 

"See here ; you have to stay with me tonight, for 
I have hired you with my son's mandrakes'' 

"Tut, tut, Doctor ; hold up there. What are you 
262 



SEEKS COMFORT IN THE BIBLE. 

giving us?" said Bennett, Hudson and I, all in 
chorus, — while the office boy went into a paroxysm 
of dry grins. 

Fact, says the jolly doctor. Now, what are man- 
drakes? What did Rachel want with them so bad 
that she was willing to lend her husband to a rival 
woman for just a few of them? 

As showing they were not the May-apple, as you 
say, which ripens in May, — Reuben found them in 
harvest time, which must have been in August or 
September; and as illustrating the value of them, 
in addition to the fact of hiring out her husband 
for them, — Leah rated them of value next to her 
husband, — she says: 

"You have taken my husband; now, would you 
take away also my son's mandrakes?" 

As a man would say : "You have taken my houses 
and lands, now, will you take also my cattle and 
horses and money ?" He wouldn't say : ^TTou have 
taken my land and houses, now would you take 
away also my cat?" If mandrakes had been some 
trifle, Rachel would have offered some trifle for 
them, and not, the very first pop, offered that which 
was dearest to her, — it usually is to most women, — 
her husband's caresses. 

Now, I've got an idea, continued the fat Old Doc- 
tor, as he touched the other electric button, and 
poured himself out a sherry cobbler with ice in it, 
and a straw, from our other patent electric auto- 
matic dumb waiter, which the Journal, like all 
263 



EECOLLECTIONS OF A RE^EL SURGEON. 

other truly wealthy people keeps for the conven- 
ience of callers at our sanctum. I^m of the opinion 
that it was a "yarb" of some kind, — good for fe- 
male complaints^ and that Eachel was the original 
Lydia E. Pinkham, the concocter of the celebrated 
"vegetable compound." 

I can imagine now, with my eyes shut, her ad- 
vertisement in the Judah Herald, or the Canaan 
Evening Neivs, something like this : 

"Mrs. Eachel Jacobs {nee Laban), announces to 
her suffering female friends and the world at large, 
that she has, at an enormous sacrifice, obtained a 
supply of fresh mandrakes, which she has put into 
her justly celebrated vegetable compound, and now 
offers it at a dollar a bottle (6 bottles for $5) ; 
warranted to cure all female complaints, etc.. etc. 
Get the genuine." 

If not, Daniels, what are mandrakes, and what 
do you think of the incident recorded in Genesis? 

With that the good doctor unlimbered, and tak- 
ing his feet off of the desk, slowly got up to leave, 
and looking back over his shoulder, said: 

"If you find out about those mandrakes, let me 
know. I^m going to search the Scriptures again; 
there's no telling what I may find. Ta-ta, Dan'els ; 
so long, boys ; see you again." 

And the sunshine went out with him. 
264 



:m 



RECOLLECTIONS 



of the days when the fluid extract of Ergot 
was the best form of the drug, are always 
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an oxytocic, disturbance of the stomach 
and abscess when used subcutaneously. 
Recollections of the use 



OF ERGOTOLE... 



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to act — it never disturbs the stomach — it 
never causes abscess. 



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1^ food value and reliability. In presenting you with this sample bottle M^ 

^ and pamphlet, we desire to state at the outset that we do not wish to ^ 

make you think you are ill and must take BOVININE, but simply to let W 

you know that there is such a preparation, and what it really is. If at any ^^ 

time you are unable to derive sufficient nourishment from the food you 1^ 

are taking, on account of imperfect digestion, lack of proper assimilation, ■^ 

or, from any cause, you may, if so inclined, give BOVININE a trial and W 

satisfy yourself that it is what we claim for it, before purchasing a sup- ^ 

ply. It will keep perfectly for almost any length of time, even after the Im 

bottle has been opened (provided it is properly corked), and you can, ^^ 

therefore, use when needed, or give it to some one to try at once. ■ 

M BOVININE is made by a COI.D PROCESS, for in this way only ^ 

is it possisible to preserve the nutrient properties of fresh, lean beef. jM 

Heat brings out a cooked-meat taste, but DESTROYS THE FOOD ^ 

|H VAZiUE of meat preparations so produced, leaving the product simply a Wt 

r~: stimulant and relish, suitable for making soups, gravies, etc., but in no ^ 

9 sense worthy the name of food. ■ 

^ BOVININE is invaluable in MAL-NUTRITION, Indigestion and ^ 

)gi every form of DYSFEFSIA, ANSSMIA (bloodlessness), NERVOUS V 

^ PROSTRATION, SI.EEFI.ESSNESS, MENTAI. DEPRESSION, ^ 

M X.OSS OF APPETITE, WASTING DISEASES, CONVAI.ESCENCE, W 

^ etc. CONSUMPTIVES and CHRONIC INVALIDS often find it the ^ 

H only food capable of sustaining the system. jM 

'": As a rapid restorative after INFLUENZA it is of the greatest pos- ^ 

H sible value. Its ability to repair waste and make new and pure blood is ■■ 

r_j unequaled, and the results obtained from its use are so prompt and pro- ^ 

mS nounced as to be a surprise to all. ■ 

M"^ BOVININE is an IDEAL INFANT FOOD. Try 5 or 10 drops in 3 

baby's bottle of milk and watch the effect. B[ 

Although BOVININE is the most concentrated and nutritious prep- ^ 

■a aration of meat on the market, it is as well by far the cheapest. wM 

r^ All druggists. Yours faithfully, ^ 

M The BOVININE Co. u 

M M 

M H 



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FIVE-GRAIN TABLETS 




l'l'lii'H;MMMIil'l»H=«»aa«lii«HldJii^ 



KtvMMiiml^ 



The name itself suggests whatAntikamnia is, and what its remedial prop- 
erties are:— Anti {Greek-Avrt) , 'Opposed to, and Kamnia (Greek-KafJ.vor) , 
Pain — therefore, "ANTIKAMNIA" (Opposed to Pain) — a remedy to relieve 
pain and suffering. 

In certainty and celerity of action , it has been found superior, especially 
in cases of Acute and Chronic Neuralgia. In Facial Neuralgia, Neuralgic 
Toothache, Tic-Douloureux, Myalgia, Migraine, Hemicrania, and all forms 
of Headache, it relieves the pain in a remarkably short time, and in no in- 
stance have any evil after-effects developed. The chief claim advanced in 
favor of Antikamnia Tablets over all other products is, that their use is not 
followed by depression of or bad effect on the heart. 

The dose for adults, which always gives relief in severe headaches, 
especially those of lawyers, students, bookkeepers, clerks, mothers, sales- 
women, teachers and nurses, in short, all headaches caused by anxiety or 
mental strain, is two tablets, followed by a swallow of water or wine. It is 
the remedy ior LaGrippeand grippal conditions. As a preventive of and 
cure fornausea while traveling by railroad or steamboat, and for genuine »za/ 
de merorsea. sickness, Antikamnia Tablets areunsurpassed, andare recom- 
mended by the Surgeons of The White Star, Cunard and American Steam- 
ship Lines. Employment in or living in hot and poorly ventilated offices, 
workshops or rooms, are among the most prolific causes of headache, as 
well as of heat exhaustion and sunstroke. For these headaches and for the 
nausea which often accompanies them, Antikamnia Tablets will be found to 
afford prompt relief. Insomnia from solar heat is readily overcome by one or 
two five-grain tablets at supper time, and again before retiring, if needed. -. 

A five-grain Antikamnia Tablet before starting on an outing, and this 
includes tourists, picnickers, bicyclers, and in fact, anybody who is out in 
the sun and air all day, will entirely prevent that demoralizing headache 
which frequently mars the pleasure of such an occasion. This applies 
equally to women on shopping tours, and especially to those who come home 
outofsorts.with a wretched" sight-seer's headache." The nervous headache 
and irritable condition of the busy business man is prevented by the timely 
use of a five-grain tablet. Every bicycle rider, after a hard run, should 
take two five-grain tablets on going to bed. In the morning he will awake 
minus the usual muscular pains, aches and soreness. As a cure and pre- 
ventive of the pains peculiar to women at time of period, Antikamnia Tablets 
are unequalled and unaccompanied by unpleasant after-effect. If the pain 
is over the lower border of the liver, or lower part of the stomach, or in 
short, be it headache, sideache, backache, or pain of any other description 
caused by suppressed or irregular menstruation, it will yield to two five- 
grain tablets. This dose maybe repeated in an hour or two, if needed. 
For very prompt relief, it is advisable to crush the tablets and swallow them 
with a little wine, or toddy. A dozen "Five-Grain Antikamnia Tablets" 
obtained from your druggist and kept about the house, will always be found 
useful in time of pain. — The Maga^itie of Medicine. 

Genuine Antikamnia Tablets always bear the /K Monogram 

QOOD DRUGGISTS OFFER NO SUBSTITUTES 




THE ANTIKAMNIA CHEMICAL COMPANY 
ST. LOUIS, U. S. A. 

46, Holtora Viaduct, LONDOiT. ^ 5, Eue ds la Pais, PAEIS. 



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^ 7885. The "RED BACK. " 1900. ^ 

♦ ♦ 

X The Texas Medical Journal X 

♦ 

Is the Popular Medical Journal of the Southwest. ▼ 

♦ 

A free-lance that goes for the Quacks, in as well as out of the ▼ 

profession. Independent in all things, neutral in nothing ^ 

that pertains to the advancement of Legitimate Medicine. ▲ 

Subscription One Dollar a year in advance. ^ 

♦ 

Owned, Edited and Published Month/y by ^ 

Dps. F. £. Daniel and S. E. Hudson, ▼ 

Austin, Texas. ^ 

♦ 

♦ 

'Dr. Daniel's reputation as a writer is as wide as the ^ 

'"'" '^ ' ♦ 



land."— ^wericaw Journal of Surgei-y and Gynecology. 



1^ "Dr. Daniel's sense of humor is certainly as sharp as a ♦ 

lance, and his pages fairly twinkle with brightness. His ^ 

manner of making men and things the butt of ridicule at will jT 

is well nigh inimitable."— itfedtcaZ Progress. V 

1^ "Dr. Daniel, as editor of the "Ked Back," the Texas a 

Medical Journal, has done some of the best, brightest and most ▼ 

original work done by any member of the editorial guild med- ^ 

ical. There may come a time when he may be dead, but dull, ^ 

— never. ' '— Medical Mirror. ▼ 



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